


Midnight

by Annie46fic



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Big Bang Challenge, M/M, Memories, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 03:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie46fic/pseuds/Annie46fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the death of his grandfather, Jensen Ackles never expected to inherit anything other than the families’ run-down farm. It comes as a surprise to find he has in fact inherited the Midnight Ranch - one of the largest, best-known horse ranches in Texas, which belonged not to his grandfather but to a man, he never knew – his mysterious great-grandfather, Captain Ross.<br/>Jensen fully intends to sell the ranch and start up his own business but when he meets handsome groom Jared (a man with secrets of his own) he finds his priorities start to change. Jared introduces Jensen to a love of horses and the land, and Jensen begins to weaken, wanting to find out more about his great-grandfather and the ranch that he has inherited.<br/>Can Jensen and Jared find the love and peace they have both been searching for in each other, or will circumstances drive them apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> This story owes more than a little debt to the movie 'War Horse' which I loved and wept through! 
> 
> I want to say a huge thank you to my artist amtamburo for her wonderful artwork  
> Also thank you to wendy, thehighwaywoman and spn_j2_bigbang for making this challenge such a wonderful annual thing! I love writing for it and I love reading the fics!!

**Prologue**

**April 1917**

_The land seemed to sweep on for miles; acres of green as far as the eye could see. Horses, chestnut, black, piebald, grazed in the fields, trotted lazily across to where the grass met the river and drank leisurely._

_This was his land, left to him by his father and his father’s father, before him. It was hard work to keep it so lush, so beautiful but it was well worth it. The animals who lived here were plump and healthy, the horses sleek and shiny. He loved to ride across the fields into town, loved the way that people tipped their hats to him, loved the way women flushed and hid behind their hands as he smiled at them. He was Ross Ackles the only son of a very powerful family and he could have his pick of any of them but he was already betrothed, his fiancée young and innocent and fresh._

_Life could not be better._

_****_

_There was war in Europe but here, in his own little kingdom, it hardly affected him. His mother would listen to the radiogram avidly and he would hear about the young men who died for the cause, about boys who were barely old enough, about those who ran away to fight. He was nearly nineteen and still treated as a little Prince, a wayward boy who could and did receive everything he wanted._

_His father bought him a black stallion from the horse market in Dallas. A magnificent beast that stood tall and proud, mane and tail groomed to perfection, eyes glowing, and coat glossy. One day this horse would carry him to his wedding, one day this horse would sire outstanding offspring that would earn him and his family thousands upon thousands of dollars. He loved the horse more than he loved his fiancée, his family, even his mongrel dog and the day he put a saddle on its back and rode him to town was one of the best days of his life._

_He called him, Midnight and he cared for him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. He swore that he would never leave him, talked to him as he hosed him down, groomed him, platted his mane and trimmed his tail. His mother and grandmother despaired of him but his father was proud._

_“We Ackles are born horsemen,” he would say, every time he saw Ross and Midnight galloping across the fields. “And my son is one of the very best that was ever born.”_

_Ross thought that, one day, he might ride Midnight to victory in the Dallas sweepstakes but the shadow of Europe’s war was creeping closer and, as it descended upon even the most remote towns, it became clear that Ross Ackles was destined for something else entirely._

****

**Dallas – Texas – Present Day**

“That was some ride.” The red head tumbled over in silk sheets, her hair flaming against the white of the pillows. Pert breasts, as creamy as milk and as smooth as velvet, peeped out from beneath the coverlet and Jensen just wanted to touch them again, get his mouth on them.

“Glad I could be of service, Ma’am.” Jensen lay sprawled and, unashamedly, naked on the bed, his cock softening against his thigh. “Hope it’s something to remember me by.”

“I won’t see you again then?” Her pink mouth, still smeared with the remnants of her lipstick, turned down in a pout and she hissed discontentedly through her teeth. “I was hoping - .”

“I’m a busy man.” Jensen smiled lazily. “Do you know that shares in the company that I work for have risen by over 10% in the last year?” He stretched his arms above his head. “My family always said I wouldn’t amount to anything,” he drawled as he drew her close again, his cock tightening ready for round two. “But they were wrong.”

“Very wrong,” the woman said as she laughed delightedly, long, manicured hands already reaching out to touch. “You seem to be extremely talented and determined in everything.”

“I am.” Jensen captured her mouth in a kiss. “I am.”

****

It was nearly midnight but he was still working at his desk when the phone rang. He glanced at his watch and bit his lip wondering if he should answer it. Hardly anyone had his cell number and a call at this time of the night could only mean bad news. He ignored it for a moment but it kept on ringing and he couldn’t help but admire whoever it was, admire their persistence at least. With an exasperated sigh, he picked up the cell and put it to his ear, heart sinking when he heard his grandma’s familiar voice.

“Jensen,” she said, softly, gently. “Your grandfather has passed.” He could hear the tears in her voice and, despite himself, he felt a stab of sympathy. “I need you to come home.”

“But grandma . . . .” He knew that his pleas would fall upon deaf ears but he voiced them anyway. “I’m right in the middle of a really important deal and I haven’t seen grandfather for years.” He huffed out a wry laugh. “We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

“He was still your grandfather, Jensen!” His grandma sniffed and he could see her, in his mind’s eye, wiping her eyes with one of those delicate lace handkerchiefs that she always used. “And he was my husband, remember that. I could use a man about the house right now.”

Jensen hated emotional blackmail and his grandma was an expert at it. His parents had died when he was a baby and his grandparents had raised him and to some extent made him the man he was. Since he had left home under a cloud, his grandma had perfected her technique and he knew, even as he tried to formulate excuses in his head, he wouldn’t be able to refuse her.

“I’ll be there at the weekend,” he said. “But I can only stay until Wednesday at the latest.”

“Thank you.” There was a hint of relief in his grandma’s voice, replaced by obvious sarcasm when she continued with, “I’m so glad you can spare me the time.”

Jensen took a deep breath and made a few notes on his laptop. He was telling the truth when he told his grandma how busy he was, but, as Managing Director of the company, he was sure he could manage a few days off to spend with his estranged family. He hadn’t seen his grandfather since the day he had left University and decided to go into finance rather than farming. His grandma would never forgive him for that. Now that the old man was dead, there would be pressure put on him to leave the city, and to work on the pathetically run down smallholding that his grandparents had laughingly called a working farm. A herd of sheep, two pigs and a few ratty old horses did not make a farm and Jensen knew his family was struggling to make ends meet. He had attempted to help by sending money but his grandfather had been a proud man and he would return checks to him unopened.

Jensen turned off his laptop and stared out of his apartment window down into the city below. He didn’t want to go home and he didn’t want to face his grandma but blood was thicker than water, and it was time to swallow his pride.

**** 

There was a lot of time for reflection on the drive back to his grandparent’s farm and, ultimately, reflection brought on grief and guilt in equal measure.

His grandparents had raised him, tried their best to do the right thing and treated him like a son. His grandfather in particular had spent hours with him, teaching him everything he knew about the land and the animals that grazed there. His grandfather was a quiet and taciturn man but Jensen was convinced that there was so much more to him. Constant recession and competition from other farms had worn his grandfather down, aged him before his time, and made him bitter and resentful. 

Once the farm had been bigger and the Ackles family had owned a lot more of the land but as poverty threatened, it forced his grandfather to sell more and more of his acreage until it left the animals barely any land on which to graze. Jensen had once asked his grandmother why they still stayed, and why they persisted. ’Surely’, he had said. ’It would be better if you sold up altogether, got out while you still can, and retire to Florida or something’. His grandmother just smiled sadly, her eyes distant, explaining that the farm had been in the family for decades and they couldn’t let it go, wouldn’t let it go.

Family; an odd word for them really. Jensen had never known his parents, not really and he had no siblings to speak to, no cousins, and no distant relatives either. He often wondered about why his grandmother’s family never called or visited. He wondered about his own family too, about his great-grandparents, and whether he had any uncles or aunts somewhere. The Ackles may be proud people but they were insular people too and Jensen felt he would never understand them.

****

The smell of cattle and horses hit him hard as he turned into the gate, wincing as his tires bounced on the uneven track that led to the house. He felt a stab of something painful as he saw how neglected the whole place looked, how skinny the sheep were, how mangy the coats looked on the horses. He gazed at the house and saw that paint was peeling from the window ledges and the door needed a fresh coat of paint. 

His grandmother stood in the overgrown garden and his eyes stung as he saw how thin she was, her grey hair hanging loose and unkempt around bowed shoulders. She was in her eighties now he guessed but, once, she had been so elegant and wouldn’t have been seen without her jewelry and make-up. Times had obviously been hard and, in addition to her obvious grief, it had aged her badly. She waved to him as he got out of the car and, in a moment, she enveloped him in her arms, Jensen feeling her trembling against him, her tears wet in his hair.

“You’ve grown,” her voice wavered. “You are such a handsome young man now and so like . . . ,” she trailed off and swallowed and Jensen held her, impossibly, closer. When they finally drew apart, he followed her into the house, wasn’t at all surprised at how bleak it looked with its threadbare furniture, and patched carpets.

“Grandma . . . ,” he began but she shook her head as if she knew what he was going to say.

“Come into the study.” She smiled, gently. “We have to talk.”

Jensen gulped painfully; he had luggage in the car and his laptop locked up in the backseat. As sympathetic and nostalgic as he felt, he still had work to do, his job was important, it was his life, the thing that drove him on. He sighed as he followed his grandma into the study and lowered himself onto a, distinctively, uncomfortable looking chair.

“Why don’t you sell up?” He knew it sounded callous but he had learned in business to be straight to the point. “Get some money for the farm while you still can. There is no need for you to keep it on now.”

His grandma flushed and wiped at her eyes again; she looked over to a picture of his grandfather that stood on the fireplace. He looked ill in the photo, pale and thin. Jensen didn’t know what had killed him but he was pretty sure it had a lot to do with the condition of the place; the cold rooms, the lack of comfort, and the general state of the place.

“I was only sixteen and newly married when your grandfather brought me here,” his grandma’s voice was soft, gentle. “It was such a beautiful place, so lush and vast. The house was magnificent, there were servants here then and farm hands to look after the animals.”

Jensen stared at her wondering if her husband’s death had sent her mad. He couldn’t imagine the wrecked old farm house as ‘magnificent’ or the scrap of land as ‘lush and vast’. The place had always been old and slightly ramshackle even in his youth and he had no memories of it being anything but. 

“Grandma . . . ,” he began but she put up her hand to silence him, her eyes distant as she continued.

“Your grandfather was such a devoted son; so enthusiastic. His father taught him to ride you know and they would ride out together to look at the land, to tend to the cattle. My father-in-law was a wonderful rider and he had such an eye for horseflesh. He could ride anything with or without a saddle.” She sighed and wiped at her eyes. “This place meant everything to him and to your grandfather. It has so many happy memories for me – whatever you think. I can’t sell it.”

“You can’t run it on your own and you certainly don’t have the means to do it,” Jensen bit his lip. “I could help you on the money side but there is no way that I could . . . ,” his voice trailed off and his grandmother shook her head, smiling fondly.

“Have you heard of the Midnight Ranch?” She asked.

Jensen was puzzled at the abrupt change of subject but he nodded dumbly. 

Who hadn’t heard of the Midnight Ranch? Horses bred there had won nearly every single most important horse race in the world. The Kentucky Derby, the all American Derby, the breeders’ cup, the Grand National, Dubai World Cup all won, at one time or another, by a horse from Midnight Ranch.  
Owned by Captain Ross, a person so mysterious, a lot of journalists and rival owners thought he might be a made up front man for a business consortium.

“Yeah.” Jensen bent forward and took his grandmother’s frail hands in his. “Of course I have.”

“It’s yours,” his grandmother stated, blandly, as if she were offering him a cup of tea. “It’s all yours now.”

Jensen stared at her; now he was certain that his grandmother had gone completely bat shit crazy. He shook his head and squeezed her hands gently.

“Come on now,” he whispered. “Don’t be foolish.”

“It’s yours,” she insisted, her voice wavering, eyes wet with unshed tears. “Your grandfather didn’t want it, wouldn’t have it, but he told me if anything happened to him I was to give it to you.”

“What are you talking about? Grandfather didn’t own the Midnight Ranch.”

“But he did. He has done for the last seven years.”

“Captain Ross owns the ranch.”

“Captain Ross Ackles – my father in law – your great-grandfather, owned the ranch just like he owned this farm.” His grandmother leaned closer to him and he could see the sincerity in her eyes. “It is a long, long story Jensen and you need to go and see the ranch, decide what you are going to do with it.”

Jensen had no words; he wasn’t a farmer nor was he a rancher but if his grandmother was telling the truth, if his grandmother wasn’t just crazy for coco puffs then he was suddenly worth hundreds of millions of dollars. He gulped in air and rubbed at his forehead. Shit how much would that ranch actually sell for? How much would those horses fetch at market? He tried to keep the tremble out of his voice.

“What do I do now?” He asked

“Wait until after your grandfather’s funeral and then we will talk to his lawyer and travel up to the ranch together. Your grandfather appointed a Ranch Manager called, Jeffrey Morgan to take care of the place and there are nearly fifty members of staff – grooms, and stable hands looking after the horses, ranchers, gardeners and the like looking after the land and other animals and a housekeeper, maid and chefs at the main house.”

“You lived in poverty all these years and yet – yet you could have been rich, you could have had everything you ever wanted.”

“Jensen, my boy. . . .” His grandma wiped her eyes again. “As I have already said it is a long story and one for another time, and another place. You should know how proud, and how unforgiving the Ackles men are. Maybe – just maybe – you could be the one to break the cycle.” 

 

***

 

Even in his wildest dreams, Jensen never thought he would be driving down the long drive that led to the most luxurious ranch house he had ever seen. 

Beside him his grandmother sat rigid and tense, her blue eyes fixed on a distant point, her hands tangled together in her lap. Jensen kept glancing over at her, wondering what she was thinking, wondering – not for the first time – why his grandfather had never taken control of this place or how his tiny family had never thought to cash in on this. He brought the car to a halt just outside the wide doors. A man was standing at the front of them and he lifted a hand as Jensen got out of the car. 

Behind the man was a line-up of people that put Jensen in mind of Presidential visits. Several maids in smart black dresses and crisp white aprons, a man in a chef’s uniform, two or three other men in aprons and an older woman in a blue dress who might be a housekeeper or somebody in charge. Jensen swallowed as he realized he was suppose to meet all of these people and he turned to the man in front of the doors, at the start of the line-up, with an expression that he felt must resemble panic.

“You must be Jensen.” The man was in his mid fifties looked broad and strong. His skin was tanned and healthy, laughter lines spreading around his bright blue eyes as he put out his hand to Jensen. “Nice to have an Ackles back at Midnight. It feels right somehow.”

“Yeah.” Jensen’s mouth was dry; he couldn’t stop staring at the ranch and it’s surrounding buildings, at the white washed walls, the big windows that were impeccably clean, the carefully kept garden and the acres of land that surrounded it. “And you are . . . ?”

“Jeff Morgan. I’m the foreman and general, the man who can!” He shook Jensen’s hand with some enthusiasm, and then he turned his charms onto Jensen’s grandmother, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing the soft skin there. “Nice to meet you at last, Ma’am,” he drawled and Jensen got the impression that, if he had a hat, he would have tipped it there and then.

Jeff walked them along the line of staff, introducing each one by name and explaining what their role at the ranch was. Jensen tried to keep up but he was lost by the time they reached the kitchen maid and he could only nod, his head spinning, throat dry as he tried to comprehend just what had happened to him.

Jeff led them into the cool interior of the ranch and Jensen could barely conceal his excitement and enthusiasm. The place was virtually palatial and Jensen could only begin to work out what it was actually worth. They followed the foreman into a large, airy room that had to be the study and sat on soft leather while one of the young maids served them coffee and sandwiches.

“I’m tired.” Jensen’s grandmother looked worn; her face was white and her lips pursed. Her eyes flickered around the room frantically and she looked on the verge of panic. “I’m led to believe you have prepared rooms for us.”

“Of course, ma’am.” Jeff stood and, out of common courtesy, Jensen followed. “Daisy will show you to your room.”

“Thank you.” She smiled but it was weak and forced. “I’ll see you at dinner,” she whispered and, with that, she was gone.

Jensen sipped at his coffee, guilt and pain edging at his senses.

“I shouldn’t have neglected her,” he said, finally. “I never went home to visit, not even when I was at university. My grandfather never forgave me for not wanting to work on the farm and we would fight a lot of the time.” He bit his lip before continuing, “I can’t believe any of this, you know. It doesn’t seem real.”

“Your grandfather would never come here and he never told us why. It seems he and his father, your great-grandfather, were estranged. Your great-grandfather, Captain Ross, he owned your grandparents farm, too. Captain Ross even lived there once.”

“None of this makes any sense,” Jensen said, putting down his empty cup and sitting back, staring out of the window, still amazed that all this belonged to him. 

“Do you feel up to the tour now?” Jeff asked, finally. “Make you feel at home at least.”

“You know I’m not going to keep this place, don’t you?” Jensen’s mouth was as dry as dust, guilt wrapping around him making him feel almost sick with it. “I work in the city; I don’t even like the great outdoors. I thought I might sell the place you know, buy somewhere else, buy my grandmother a new house, and have a very long vacation.”

Jeff’s expression remained neutral. 

“It is your choice of course,” he said, finally. “It would be a shame though.” He shrugged. “There are a lot of people here relying on this place not just for their income but their livelihood.” He stood up. “And then there are the horses. Captain Ross loved them as if they were his own children. It seems a shame to see them all scattered across the country but, as I said, your choice.”

Jensen didn’t say anything in response, just got to his own feet and followed Jeff through into the next room, his mind buzzing. 

The house was wonderful, tastefully decorated, sparsely furnished with expensive names. Paintings of horses adorned most of the walls as well as grainy black and white photographs from places that Jensen couldn’t even begin to put a name to. In the lounge, there was a wall dominated by a portrait of a man on a big, black stallion and Jensen paused in front of it, his heart in his mouth.

The man could have been his double; broad shoulders, short red-gold hair, sharp green eyes turning to the painter, face adorned with a slight smile. The man was wearing a short sleeved shirt and jeans tucked into shiny black boots, a Stetson tipped back around his neck. The horse beneath him was magnificent, black and glossy, like something out of a story book, eyes forward, one hoof raised, the other three planted on the grass; horse and rider seemed to merge as if they were one person and Jensen was overawed by the painting, glued in front of it as if his feet had turned to lead.

“Captain Ross,” Jeff’s voice was low. “You look a lot like him.”

Jensen nodded; he felt light-headed and in sudden need of air. Mumbling his apologies, he turned heel and stumbled from the room, heading out of the nearest door, inhaling the scent of grass, hay and horses. He walked without knowing, where he was going or what he was going to do and, soon, he found himself outside of a huge stable block, the smell of horseflesh much stronger there. He paused for a moment, breathing heavily though his nose.

This was his now; all of it and he felt almost overwhelmed by the idea, both astonished and amazed. His grandfather had refused to live here, refused to have anything to do with any of this and he couldn’t wrap his head around it. He had a difficult time trying to understand why anyone would chose to live in poverty when they could have lived in luxury.

He was so caught inside his own head that he failed to notice he had wandered inside the stable block, and was now standing in the centre of it. It was warmer inside and the lights were dimmer. Horses stood in each of the stalls, strong, healthy looking animals, nothing like the mangy nags that his grandfather had kept. Jensen moved slowly towards one of the stalls and stopped dead.

The horse inside this stall was a complete replica of the one he had seen in his great-grandfather’s portrait but it was not the horse that had drawn his attention but the man beside it. 

The man was grooming the horse with an almost single-minded devotion. His big hands moved over the horse’s flanks, soothing it with gentle noises, moving around it gently, quietly, completely concentrating on the job in hand. The man had stripped off his shirt in the heat and Jensen could only stare, fascinated, at the long stretch of bare back that was on display. The man was tall, taller than any man Jensen had laid eyes on and his body was lithe, muscular, his arms thick and sinewy, and his legs, encased in ripped jeans, long and taut. Chestnut hair, as glossy as any horse’s coat, curled around the man’s bare shoulders and Jensen stared as a single bead of sweat ran down from the top of the man’s spine to the curve at the very bottom.

Jensen must have made some sort of sound because the man turned, his slanting hazel eyes staring at Jensen shocked and horrified from beneath shaggy bangs. The man’s cheekbones were high and there were dimples adorning his tanned skin. A flush spread across the man’s face and he grabbed at his t-shirt thrusting it over his head and rubbing his hands through his hair trying to straighten it.

“I’m sorry,” the voice was deep and low, Texan lilt slurred and obvious. “I never saw you there, sir.”

“It’s okay,” Jensen found his voice. “You carry on.”

“You’re Mr. Ackles, aren’t you?” The man wiped at his forehead. “Jeff told us you were comin’.”

“Yeah, that’s me and you are . . . ?”

“Jared, Jared Padalecki. I’m the head groom here. I look after all of the horses.”

“You do a good job,” Jensen said, expansively, waving an arm for good measure. “From what I’ve seen the horses look good.”

“Thanks.” Jared Padalecki put down the Dandy brush he was using and stroked his big hand across the horse’s neck, rubbing his own face against it. “This one is beautiful though, don’t you think? He is gonna’ be a champion when we rein him in.”

“I saw a horse just like this one.” Jensen knew absolutely nothing about horses only that he didn’t like them or even want them. “He was on a portrait, inside the ranch house.”

“Midnight,” Jared’s smile was wide and innocent, his voice soft. “He was your great-grandpa’s horse.” He made an odd snickering sound and the big black beast beside him snorted loudly. “This one here is a direct descendant, and the finest piece of horseflesh the ranch has to offer.”

Jensen thought about his future; the thought was sudden but sweet. He could give up his job, buy a real estate company, maybe even two, he could holiday in far off places, maybe buy a dozen classic cars and he could get any woman he fucking wanted. He inclined his head towards the horse.

“How much is he worth?” He asked, finally.

“He’s priceless,” Jared, sounded shocked that Jensen would even consider asking such a question. “When we break him in he is gonna’ win so many races, bring in more money than you can even imagine. Your great-grandfather knew his horses and this one – this one’s special.”

Jensen sighed; he wondered if Jared was also a little special. The man was built like a tank but he seemed so gentle and overtly shy, more interested in the horses than anything else.

“Have you worked here long?” He wanted to get off the subject of the horse now. He had no intention of keeping this ranch, and wanted to sell this and the ramshackle mess his grandmother called a farm but he realized that some of these people had jobs here, relied on the income the ranch paid them and he wanted to make things right.

“For a year, now.” Jared stretched out his long limbs. “Jeff set me up with the job.” Jared walked past Jensen, the scent of sweat and hay hanging pungent around him. “I should go and shower,” he continued. “Jeff said that some of the hired hands are gonna’ eat with you and your grandmother tonight and well, I guess I didn’t make such a good first impression.”

Jensen shook his head. “Don’t sweat it,” he replied. “You were doing a fine job.”

Jared flushed then; pink and shy, his eyes bright beneath his messy hair. Jensen smiled back; oddly warm inside, wondering why Jared’s sudden happiness should actually matter to him.

“Thanks,” Jared said and, with a wave of his hand, he was gone leaving Jensen to find his way back to the ranch.

****

He found his grandmother in her room; she was drinking tea from a china cup and looked very gentile sitting there on her bed, her grey hair taken back in a chignon, her best dress laid out for her.

“This is the sort of life you could have lived, you know.” Jensen knelt down and put his hands, gently, on her knees. “I don’t understand any of it.”

“If you stay here for a while rather than rush back to the city you might find out more.” His grandmother looked at him with steely blue eyes.

“I just care about you,” Jensen burst out. “And the life you were forced to live.”

“Oh yes.” His grandmother smiled but the smile was wry. “You cared so much that I have seen you twice in nearly ten years, Jensen, and this second time you came because I had to beg you.”

“Grandfather said . . . .”

“That you should leave,” his grandmother said. “I know, Jensen and I know how proud and stubborn he is – was – but you could have come back home. Jensen, we both missed you.”

“I’m sorry.” He squeezed her knee gently and she patted his head like she had done when he was a child. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you want to sell this place and the farm too but – but I’m hoping you might change your mind.” She sighed. “I love that farm, even if it does need a lot of work doing to it, even if it makes no money. It is my home and it was your grandfather’s home and once it was Captain Ross’s home.”

“You have to tell me more.” Jensen wanted to scream with frustration. “I need to know.”

“You have to find out for yourself.” His grandmother rose to her feet. “It is the only way for you to make the right decision.”

Jensen sighed; he stood up and stared out of the window at the darkening Texan sky.

“I hate riddles,” he murmured and his grandmother laughed.

“You always did, but you still tried to solve them.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “Now go and get ready, we have staff to impress.”

The tables were laid as if they were expecting royalty; a crisp white tablecloth covered the surface of one of the largest dining tables Jensen had ever seen and there were deep red napkins with matching place mats. Glasses sparkled in the candle light and music played low, soft and tasteful through speakers that Jensen couldn’t even see. 

There were several men already in the room; Jared he recognized, the tall man smiling shyly at him from across the table. He wore a pair of smarter jeans and a worn white shirt, his hair brushed neatly behind his ears. Some of the other men were older and dressed a little smarter, shaved and with hair brushed neat. One of them was small and broad with brown hair tied in a ponytail, with a rather smug knowing expression on his face. Another was taller, skinnier with blond hair and a scrappy beard, along with Jared these seemed to be the most ‘important’ men in the room and had a place at the top of the table. The others sat around at the other end of the table, already deep in conversation and drinking, what looked like beer. Jensen’s grandmother smiled at all three of the men around her and Jensen felt foolishly pleased when Jared introduced himself to her, all nervous charm and gentle courtesy. 

“Gentlemen.” Jeff entered the room and everyone seemed to stand to attention. “Please make yourself comfortable and help yourself to some wine.” He smiled at Jensen. “These are my most important men,” he said with a certain amount of charisma. “I believe you have already met Jared and the other two are Chris my deputy and Steve who looks after the land.” He waved his hand expansively raising his voice a little to grab everybody’s attention. “This is Jensen Ackles. He is the new owner of the Midnight ranch and the man you all need to impress and . . . .” He gently held Jensen’s grandmothers hand. “This is Mrs. Rebecca Ackles. She is a real lady and you need to treat her as such.”

“Ma’am.” Jared smiled and pulled out one of the chairs for Jensen’s grandmother. Jensen watched his grandmother pat the taller man on the arm as she sat down, her eyes bright, the smile on her face genuine for the first time in a very long time.

“What a good boy you are,” she said. “Your momma raised you well.”

“She did her best, ma’am.” Jared flushed under all the scrutiny and the small man, Chris, snorted in derision.

“He learned most of his manners from the horses,” he barked with a laugh.

“Chris.” Jeff’s tone was low, warning. Jared’s slanting eyes lowered for a moment and Jensen felt irrational anger, wondering if he might be able to get rid of the smaller man, already disliking him.

Dinner was awkward with very little conversation even though the food was good and the wine was plentiful. The men knew Jensen intended to sell the place and it led to silent resentment from most of them. Jensen’s grandmother was quiet, reflective, her eyes flitting around the room as if she were trying to commit it to memory. Every now and then, the waiting staff brought fresh food and that, at least, caused scant relief.

“I’m going to my bed.” Jensen’s grandmother got to her feet slowly. She smiled at Jeff and at Jared, her face softer, kinder. “Thank you for a nice evening,” she said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

The men stood as she left and, when she was gone, Chris and Steve both made their excuses, obviously relieved to get out of there. The other men left one by one, making their excuses. Jensen took his wine and stepped out of the patio doors into the balmy evening. Most of the men were walking back to the bunkhouse or the small cottages adjacent to the ranch, still talking amongst themselves, their voices soft and distant. It was beautiful out there, the stars so clear in the night sky he could almost touch them. There were no stars outside his windows in the city apartment or if there were, they were smog obscured them. Jensen sighed and took in a deep breath, the air clean and sharp in his lungs.

“It’s really nice isn’t it?” Jared’s voice made him jump a little and he turned to see the younger man smiling at him shyly. “And all of it is yours.”

“How far does the land stretch?” Jensen took a sip of his wine and stared at Jared rather than the stars. Despite his size, there was something innocent about Jared, something sweet. He hadn’t known many people in the city that he had liked. People were all false and all had their own agenda. He knew that other people must think that about him too but his ambition and drive had moved him beyond caring and yet now he did.

“Miles and miles.” Jared smiled, his eyes fixed on a distant point. “You could take a ride across some of it; get a better idea before you . . . .” He flushed as if he was speaking out of turn. “Before you decide to sell it or not.”

“Ride? You mean on a horse?!” Jensen laughed wryly. “I haven’t ridden since I was fifteen years old and I wasn’t particularly good at it. It was another bone of contention between me and my grandfather.”

“There are plenty of horses here.” Jared moved a little closer so that Jensen could feel his warmth bleeding through the cotton of his shirt, his chest pressed lightly against Jensen’s back. “I’m sure I could find something gentle for you to ride.”

“You like it here?” Jensen said, as he finished his wine, spinning the glass in his hand so that it caught the silvery light of the moon.

“I love it here. I’ve moved around quite a bit and this is the best place I have worked.”

“I still can’t understand why my grandfather never took this place on and preferred to work on that run down piece of sh . . . .” Jensen bit his tongue before continuing. “It doesn’t make sense,” he sighed. “Families are hard.”

Jared was silent for a moment before replying, soft and low. “I guess,” he said. “I haven’t seen my momma for a long time and I miss her.”

“You should visit maybe.” Jensen didn’t know why he would suggest such a thing, he was hardly a model grandson himself.

“I can’t,” The reply was stark, heavy with something Jensen couldn’t put his finger on. “Perhaps I will one day,” Jared continued. “But not now.” He stretched out his long limbs and shivered. “I should get goin’. As always I have an early start in the morning.” He glanced across at Jensen. “Maybe I’ll find you a nice horse for tomorrow, just in case.”

Jensen laughed; he didn’t think there was much chance of him getting on a horse again but that night, in his dreams, he rode out across the land, the wind in his face, Jared by his side and they were laughing.

****

Even as the alarm clock sounds with a shrill ring, he knows; he knows he is going to ride today as sure as eggs are eggs.

He eats breakfast with his grandmother who seems happy enough to stay here for now even though she mentions going home on more than one occasion. Jensen feels lighter somehow. He is going to ring work and tell them he isn’t coming back for a while, maybe not ever, although he won’t tell them that. He needs to see what the lay of the land is, literally, before he can sell up. He needs to know just how many horses there are, and how much everything is worth. He will contact a real estate agent as soon as he has some idea but now, now he just wants to ride and the shock of it nearly floors him, his grandmother watching in interest as he picks at his food and watches the clock.

He doesn’t see Jeff, Steve or Chris and he figures they must be off somewhere else. Jared is in the stables grooming one of the horses and he looks up as Jensen approaches, the grin on his face almost blinding.

“I’ve found you a horse,” Jared says and Jensen can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “Let’s saddle up and go, we have a long ride ahead of us.”

****

The horse is large and placid; trotting across the land isn’t as exciting as Jensen thought it might be and he wished that he was experienced enough to get the horse to gallop. Jared is beside him, so much more confident than Jensen is, on a chestnut mare whose coat matches the color of Jared’s own hair, which flew behind him as he burst into a gallop and flew down across the fields, horse’s hooves flying.

Jared was so different when he rode; confident, at ease, expression determined. He was almost at one with the horse, reminding Jensen of the centaurs in the book of Greek myths his grandfather always read to him when he was a boy. Jensen was tense on his horse, thighs screaming as he clung on with them even though he wasn’t going very fast or covering much ground.

There was a skid of earth and Jared pulled up his horse next to Jensen’s and pulled at the horse’s reins to stop him.

“I got Daisy to pack us some food.” Jared’s cheeks were ruddy with fresh air. “Do you wanna’ stop here?” He gestured with his hands. “It’s a beautiful spot.”

Jensen winced as he got off the horse. He wondered if he would ever be a good rider, as he had never really taken to it when he had lived on the farm and he wasn’t planning to stay here long enough to learn.

Jared was right though, the spot was beautiful, green fields as far as the eye could see - some of them empty, others had horses or cattle grazing on them and Jensen didn’t need to ask to know they all belonged to him.

“The men certainly work hard.” He flopped down on his side, ass aching too much from riding to sprawl on his back. “It must take a lot to get it looking like this.”

“Yeah, they work from dawn till dusk and we get other hired-hands coming in over the spring and summer. There are many outbuildings too, as well as land and they have to keep them in good condition. Most people who work here have more than one skill.” Jared sat down next to him and opened his pack. There was crusty bread, strong cheese, bunches of purple grapes and a bottle of wine. Jensen grinned at the small feast.

“I think Daisy may be sweet on you,” he teased

“No.” Jared flushed a little. “I – no.”

“You don’t want to settle down?” It was a question his grandmother would ask of him, whenever he phoned home. “Maybe find a nice young girl.”

Jared was silent for a moment and then he shook his head.

“Not really.” He plucked at the grass and Jensen could virtually feel his embarrassment. “I always liked animals better than girls.”

Jensen couldn’t help but laugh at Jared’s innocence and naiveté. He was so different to anyone Jensen had ever met either at University or at work. Most of Jensen’s friends were cynical pleasure seekers or, like Jensen, obsessed with women, their careers or money. Jared seemed to have none of those obsessions, happy it seemed when he was riding or taking care of the horses.

“That’s why you work here, then?” Jensen took a bite of the bread and cut a huge chunk of cheese for himself. “Because of the animals” 

“Yeah, there are dogs here. I always wanted a dog and cattle but the horses . . . .” Jared smiled happily. “They are such beautiful horses.”

“From what I have heard my great-grandfather certainly knew a good horse when he saw one and, of course, I’ve watched races on television and have seen Captain Ross’s animals romp home.” Jensen swallowed back a tinge of regret, regret he had never gotten to know, essentially, a living legend.

“Jeff used to work for your great-grandfather.” Jared took a gulp of the wine from the bottle and passed it to Jensen. “You should talk to him.”

“Really?” Jensen frowned. “When was that?”

“He was a stable boy here, used to help break the horses in, and rode for a while until he got too big.” Jared laughed, cheeks flushed with wine. “I would have liked to have been a jockey but, man, I sure got too big.”

Jensen laughed too; it had been a long time since he had felt so at ease in someone’s company and he realized how much he liked Jared. He liked his manner, his shyness, his openness, and he liked the fact that he wasn’t hiding anything. He had no agenda to speak of.

“I’d like to find out more about my great-grandfather. I wish I had known about him sooner. Our family is so small; it is just me and my grandmother now. I often wished I had brothers or sisters when I was growing up. I was so lonely.”

“I had an older brother and a younger sister.” Jared gazed out over the fields, his eyes fixed on some distant point. “We used to play together all the time. I miss them.”

Jensen wanted to ask what happened but he sensed that Jared wouldn’t tell him. It was odd, Jared seemed so up front and genuine yet one mention of his family and he clammed up hard, his reluctance to talk about them telling.

“We should get back.” Jensen rose reluctantly. He felt a little light headed, the taste of wine strong in his mouth. “I’ve enjoyed today.”

“We can ride again if you want,” Jared said, softly, hopefully. “Maybe you would like to see us break in Midnight. It won’t be for a while, he needs to get used to us but he will be one of the finest stallions around when he is ready.”

“Midnight? The same name as Captain Ross’s horse.” Jensen grinned. “You never told me that.”

“All the black stallions are called Midnight, it is a tradition. They go on to sire more foals so that the line continues.” Jared swung his long leg over the saddle and mounted his horse with ease. “It will be a sad day when this place is sold,” he stated, no malice in his voice. “But I do understand your reasons.”

“You do?” Jensen struggled onto his own horse, wondering how Jared made it look so easy. “You seem to be the only one then.”

“Man’s gotta’ do, what a man’s gotta’ do,” Jared intoned with a wry laugh. “Sometimes we do things because we think at the time that they are the right thing to do, but afterwards we regret it.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth to get the horse moving. “Just don’t do anything you will regret Jensen. You have the rest of your life to live with it and it can really, really hurt at times.”

Jensen followed Jared at a slow steady trot and thought about what he had said. It was obvious that Jared was hiding something and Jensen felt almost compelled to know what it was. He hardly knew the man and yet he felt close to him already. He had to try to maintain his distance, he had to or else he would never be able to sell this place and, for his sanity, he had to stick to his plan.

****

“Perhaps he’ll stay.” Jared ran his hand across the horse’s flank, rubbing his face up against the soft coat, shining and black in the dim light of the stable. “I hope he’ll stay,” he whispered, sharing confidences. “I really like him and it has been so long – too long.”

The horse whinnied low and gentle and Jared wrapped his arms around its neck, unafraid despite its size.

“You win races for him, Midnight,” he said on a sigh, a yawn catching him by surprise, reminding him just how late it was. “And then maybe, just maybe, we can keep him here.”

****

Jensen leaned over the books; ledgers so thick it was hard to turn the pages. Beside him, his grandmother was sipping mint tea and nibbling on some toast. She looked so much better than she had, relaxed and rested, although it was clear she still missed his grandfather and that she was still reluctant to tell him anything about the past and how they had come to own such a magnificent ranch.

“This place is worth millions.” He could barely speak as he ran his fingers down the edge of the ledger, his eyes fixed on the figures, hand-written in red and black. “And that is just the ranch and the land, the horses are worth millions more, there are hundreds of millions in winnings from races and even with staff and costs for running the place . . . ,” he trailed off. “I don’t know where to start. Grandmother, why? Why didn’t grandfather take this on? You could have lived a fine life, been part of this society, maybe gone to the races, bought beautiful clothes,” he paused. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I can’t explain, you will have to find out for yourself.” His grandmother sighed and put down her tea. “Your great-grandfather, he left his wife and family – your grandfather being one of them. He left them to fend for themselves. For years we thought he was dead and then to find out that, not only was he alive, but running this ranch, well you can imagine.”

“I guess.” Jensen’s head ached and he longed for fresh air; he wondered what Jared was doing this morning and he felt suddenly restless, slamming the book shut and making his excuses, feet taking him to the stable block before he was even aware of what he was doing.

“Jensen!” Jared was watering the horses; it was midday and steaming hot, the sun beating down almost mercilessly. Jared wore worn denim and a battered cowboy hat, chest bare and tanned, sweat glistening in the sunlight. It reminded Jensen of pictures he had seen of male models or movie stars and he shook his head, wondering when he had started admiring the male body rather than the female one. “Did you want to ride today?”

“It’s hot,” Jensen stated and laughed at the lameness of the situation.

“We could ride down to the creek.” Jared stood up and stretched out, he flushed a little when he realized Jensen was looking and, like the first time they had met, he reached for his t-shirt.

“Leave it.” Jensen smiled, encouragingly. “It is too hot to worry about clothes.”

Jared laughed shyly; he tipped the hat back on his head and wiped sweat from his brow.

“Do you want to go to the creek?” He continued, “We could go swimming. You can swim, can’t you?”

“Used to swim all the time when I lived on the farm. I haven’t been in water for years but I think I would probably be better at that than I am at riding.”

Jared grinned then; open and dimpled.

“Let’s go then,” he said, gesturing to the stables. “I’ll saddle up, same horse as yesterday?”

“Yeah.” There was a tingle of excitement in his gut, something he couldn’t explain. “The same horse as yesterday.”

And Jared’s smile grew, impossibly, wider.

****

The horses lapped at the clear water and Jensen watched as Jared sat down and pulled off his boots. Jensen could feel the sweat trickling down between his shoulders and along his spine as he took off his t-shirt and began to undo his zipper. Jared was down to his boxers and Jensen gazed for a moment at the acres of tanned skin, long legs and taut thighs. Jared worked on the land and it was obvious, he was slim, built, not an ounce of fat on him. Jensen swallowed and shook his head as if to clear it suddenly aware of his own body, of his slight potbelly due to endless business lunches, his bow shaped legs, and his thick thighs. He pulled his own jeans off and hoped he didn’t come up too short but Jared was too busy throwing himself into the water to even glance over and Jensen whooped with laughter as he threw caution to the wind and joined him.

The water was freezing against his burning skin; he shook his hair from his eyes and began to make clumsy but effective strokes through the rippling depths.  
Jared was already skimming through the creek, arms and legs moving smoothly in tandem. He stopped for a moment, treading water, his long hair hanging wetly on his face. Jensen felt a sudden warm fondness for him, a pull that he hadn’t ever really felt before, something like a bond, Jared’s happiness as critical to him as his own.

“Good suggestion,” he panted and lashed out water onto Jared’s astonished face as he struck out for shore.

Afterwards they lay on their backs drying in the sun, watching the clouds skitter across the deep blue sky. Jensen knew he would burn and tomorrow his skin would be a riot of freckles but he didn’t care, wanting only to live in the here and now. A tiny voice wormed its way into his consciousness something that said, if you sell the land you can never do this again. It was something he never thought he would be concerned about, an odd tingle of guilt that throbbed through his bloodstream and made him shudder despite the heat of the day. 

“Today has been awesome,” Jared’s voice was low and close to his ear, breath cool against his ear. “I never thought I would go swimmin’ with the boss.”

“I’m not your boss, Jared.” Jensen knew that the statement wasn’t anywhere near true. Thanks to his mysterious grandfather, he owned the place and Jared and the other men here relied on him for their jobs, their livelihoods and he – he was going to sell up without a thought, and most probably put these men out of work.

“Yeah, I think you are.” Jared rolled onto his side and Jensen found himself looking at Jared’s face, staring into those cloudy hazel eyes, his throat suddenly tight.

“No, Jared.” Jensen shook his head. “I’m your friend. Jared, I want to be your friend!”

“Friends. . . .” Jared beamed warm and dimpled. “That sounds awesome.”

Jensen had to agree, it really did sound awesome.

****

The next few days were, possibly, the best of Jensen’s life. He spent the mornings with his grandmother, looking over the ledgers and books, totaling up just what everything was worth, making inventory, and taking stock of what he owned. There were trophies and medals in a cabinet in the hall and there were requests from other racehorse owners for foals and for studs. Jensen spent some time with Jeff, when the foreman could spare him an hour or two and, during those hours, he realized just how little he knew about the land or the horses. He wanted to know more about his great-grandfather but Jeff wasn’t saying much and between him and Jensen’s grandmother it was hard to find anything out.

The afternoons though were well worth any frustrations because he spent them with Jared. They would ride across the land, Jared showing him everything he had read about in the ledger. Jared took him to the other outhouses, to the barns used to store feed and house other animals, to the neatly pruned orchards and the other small ranch houses that were independent of the big house. They would walk around the stable block, Jared pointing out the horses, the ones for stud, the ones for racing and the ones that just ‘belonged’. Jared was an expert on horses and was genuinely fond of them. This seemed reciprocated, the horses responding to him, standing patiently whilst he groomed them or saddled them, even Midnight, wild as he appeared, seemed to calm down for Jared.

Jensen wondered why he was so fond of the younger man; he realized he never truly had a proper friend before, someone to talk to, to laugh with, and someone who liked him for himself, who accepted him for what he was.

However there was more, something deep, something different and it was something that Jensen didn’t want to think about, didn’t want to face. The times he spent with Jared were some of the best he had ever had and he felt drawn to Jared and, more scarily, he felt attracted to Jared and that terrified him more than anything did. He was sure he wasn’t gay, he had always been attracted to women, had plenty of lady friends in his life and sex had always been satisfying for everyone concerned. Now though, it wasn’t a slim waist or pert tits he was thinking about, but long taut legs, a flat abdomen and strong pecs. He was thinking about soft chestnut hair, slanting eyes and a shy dimpled smile. 

Jensen was growing to love the ranch, the fresh air, and even the riding. It was evident how well he was looking, he was beginning to go a light golden brown, he had lost his gut, his was chest bigger, and his arms stronger. His grandmother was watching him, and beginning to smile more. After a few weeks at the ranch, his grandmother was also out riding with Jeff and Jared chose the gentlest horse he had, making Jensen like him even more.

****

Summer was turning into autumn and he quit his city job to devote his time to ‘selling’ the ranch. He had a good idea what it was worth now and he couldn’t help seeing the dollar signs that ran through his head when he looked at the ledger. 

It was late evening and Jeff had been helping him with the wages. Jeff was in charge of the staff and knew what each of them earned. Jensen found it was somehow quaint and old fashioned to be making up envelopes, thrusting crinkly notes, and shiny coins inside. Jensen yawned; he had been sleeping really well since he had been here and he realized that he wasn’t missing the city at all.

“You worked for him.” It was a statement not a question. “What was he like?”

“He was like you.” Jeff grinned. “Stubborn, self-centered, not easily swayed but he loved the land and he knew good horseflesh when he saw it. All these wonderful creatures; all either bought or bred by him.”

“Jared does a good job with them,” it was out before he could withdraw it and he noticed Jeff’s grin widen, bright eyes on his face soft and knowing.

“He is a good boy, good with horses and people.”

“You took him on.”

“Yeah, he needed a break.”

Jensen wanted to know more, frustration making him huff. There was so much mystery here; his grandfather, Jared, people he barely knew but who he already felt a connection with.

“He’s – special,” Jensen said, lamely and Jeff guffawed as he got to his feet.

“Is that what they are calling it these days,” he said and Jensen shook his head with a wry smile.

“Just remember who is boss here,” he said, finally.

“I remember.” Jeff smiled again and lightly squeezed Jensen’s shoulder. “And I hope that he is sticking around some, cause I kinda’ like him.”

****

Jensen wanted to ride; it was odd to feel like this, the sudden urge to get on a horse and thunder across the fields. He still wasn’t very accomplished at riding and he was still fairly nervous but he wanted to improve, he wanted to be able to ride like Jared did, a small subconscious part of him wanting to ride Midnight, to ride the massive stallion just as his great-grandfather had ridden his own Midnight all those years ago.

He rounded the corner leading to the stable block and froze as he heard voices elevated in anger; it was odd because since arriving here life had been almost too peaceful, too easy and he felt as if he were being plunged into reality again.

“It’s too early.” He recognized Jared’s voice, more strident, more firm than he had ever heard it. “You try and break him now, and you could ruin him.”

“You treat everything with kid gloves,” the next voice sounded familiar too and Jensen thought it was maybe Chris. “You need to get harder.”

“He needs to be broken in slowly and gently. He is a thoroughbred,” Jared sounded angry but fearful. “He is something special and you know it.”

“Saving him for the boss, are you?” Chris’s tone was taunting. “You trying for more brownie points?”

“T-that’s not what it is,” Jared’s voice was low, fearful almost. “I just want the horse to be okay.”

“Oh yeah.” Chris was getting louder and Jensen pushed himself away from the wall and walked around until he could see what was happening. “You must think I was born yesterday, you fucking little liar. You are sweet on the boss and there is no point in denying it. All this time you have been taking him riding, making little picnics. What do you think he would say if he knew the truth about you? He wouldn’t be so happy to be swimming with you then, would he? Not so contented to let you see him in his boxers.”

Jensen’s mouth went dry but Jared reacted before he had the chance to move. He hauled back his fist and knocked Chris to the ground. The smaller man snarled and got straight back up again, wiping blood from his mouth.

“I didn’t think you’d be so violent, faggot! Good job I brought back-up.” He made a vague gesture with his hands and, suddenly, men Jensen didn’t recognize, although he was certain some of them were his employees, surrounded Jared. Despite his size, he was clearly outnumbered and before Jensen could even make his presence known, he was on the floor, fists and feet flying.

“Stop!” 

Jensen didn’t even hesitate, he flew around the corner ready to fight if necessary but as soon as he appeared the men who had been holding and attacking Jared slunk back as they saw him, fearing for their livelihood, and Chris was suddenly standing alone, blood on his chin, mouth already swelling from Jared’s earlier punch.

“Boss . . . ,” he began but Jensen put his hand up, waved him silent.

“Leave him be,” he snapped. “And get out of my sight. You can be certain I’ll be talking to Jeff about this.

Chris gave him a look that would have melted iron and then stalked off after his cronies while Jensen knelt down and helped Jared up, huffing under the weight as Jared swayed on his feet, eyes dazed as he gazed at Jensen.

“What the fuck?” Jensen began but Jared was in no fit state to say anything. His mouth swollen and his cheekbone had a gash across it where one man obviously had had a ring on his finger. His eye was half closed and beginning to bruise and there was blood running down his face.

“S’okay,” Jared’s voice was harsh. “I’m okay.”

“No, you aren’t Jared. Come on, we’re going back to the ranch and I’m going to patch you up.”

“Jensen,” Jared’s voice was thick with something and a quick glance told Jensen he was crying, silent tears trickling down his cheeks and merging with the blood there. “Y-you heard him.”

It was a statement not a question and Jensen nodded, conscious of Jared’s sudden and painful intake of breath.

“Yeah, I heard him,” he replied, keeping his arm around Jared despite their size difference. Jared was silent for a long time, his hitching breathing giving him away, soft sobs hidden underneath.

He had heard Chris, and he couldn’t ignore the fact that Chris had called Jared, a faggot and that Jared wasn’t denying it. Jared wasn’t even fighting it and, despite everything, he couldn’t ignore the fact that it changed things, that it was bound to change things and he wondered randomly but with a surprising lack of anger or fear, if Jared had been attracted to him all along.

He settled Jared onto the sofa and began to search for a first aid kit or something like. As he did so, he swore to himself that he would summon Jeff and get Chris off his property as soon as possible, Jeff’s second-in-command notwithstanding. Jared was so quiet he thought he might have passed out but instead he sat on the coach, face white against the dark leather of the sofa, eyes distant. He looked up when Jensen came in and he lowered his head again, the sound of his sobs and sniffs making Jensen’s heart ache.

“Come on, Jared.” He breathed a sigh of relief when he found a full kit with band-aids, cleansing wipes and antiseptic cream. “Let’s at least clean you up some.”

“What he said . . . .” Jared forced the words out of his swollen lips. “About me, it’s partially true.” He wiped angrily at his eyes. “But I never – you are – were my friend.”

“Still am.” Jensen swallowed down the lump in his throat and began to dab Jared’s wounds with the wipes ignoring the hiss that he gave through his teeth as the wipe hit the cut on his face. “I’m still your friend, Jared.”

“I wasn’t eyeing you up.” Jared closed his eyes. “When we went swimming, you have to believe me.”

“I think it may have been the other way around,” Jensen said and laughed, weakly, as he recalled checking Jared out. “The outdoor life agrees with you dude.”

“You’re not gay.” Jared squeezed his eyes tight and breathed heavily. Jensen put a band-aid over the gash and smiled to himself.

“No, but I’m not homophobic either. Doesn’t matter to me what your sexual preferences are.”

Jared opened his eyes for a moment; they were sad, shadowed and watery under dark blue and green bruising.

“I’ve always been gay,” he said, finally. “It’s difficult.”

“Yeah, when there are asses like Chris about it must be.” Jensen finished his ministrations and sat down beside Jared on the sofa. He rang for tea and then he rang for Jeff wanting Chris off his land sooner rather than later. 

As he sat beside Jared, he could feel the warmth of the other man up against him and he couldn’t help but smile to himself. Jared might be gay but at least he was sure about his sexuality. He had always been straight but since meeting Jared, he had questioned his feelings more and more. He wondered what it would be like to hold Jared close, and to kiss Jared’s lips, whether they would be dry or moist, whether he would enjoy it. The twitching of his cock gave him some answers and, back in the city, he would have been confused, and wouldn’t have wanted to deal with this. However, the Jensen who left the city and the Jensen who was sitting next to Jared were two very different people and he was beginning to realize that for the first time.

****

Jeff looked very serious; he kept giving Jared concerned glances as he listened to Jensen’s explanation of what had happened. Jensen could see, by Jeff’s expression, that he was disappointed by the encounter, and hurt by what Chris, his own second-in-command had done. Jensen was angry, Jared was silent, and it was an awkward moment, one that Jensen never wanted to repeat.

Jeff summoned Chris and the men that had been part of the attack to the room and Jensen could see the hatred and resentment on the smaller man’s face. Jeff got to his feet and Chris stared up at him, openly defiant.

“Neither I, nor Mr. Ackles, will tolerate this kind of behavior,” Jeff said. “Bullying is the worst kind of crime and it can lead to violence as today has shown.”

“He is capable of defending himself.” Chris was surly, insolent. “One of the men has a broken nose.”

“Good.” Jeff rubbed his face. “It is no more than the man deserved. Jared here is a good employee.”

“And a faggot!” Chris’s eyes narrowed and Jensen felt so angry he almost got to his feet and knocked the man on the nose.

“His sexuality has nothing to do with his skills with the horses,” Jeff began, hand held up to keep Jensen still. “The fact that you initiated this attack disgusts me. Unfortunately we will have to part ways and I’m sorry Chris because you have been with me for a long time now and we roll along nicely but Mr. Ackles won’t tolerate such behavior and neither will I.”

Chris snorted, “If you would rather side with a faggot than me then so be it.” He stared at Jared for a moment. “But let me tell you, you will live to regret this.”

He turned tail then and stormed out of the room. Jeff looked sorry and Jensen still felt the tight tug of anger in his chest. Beside him, Jared was shaking and Jensen didn’t have to look to see he was crying again.

“I’ll give you a minute.” Jeff nodded and gave Jared’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You don’t need me for a while, do you boss?”

“No.” Jensen nodded his thanks. “I’ll sort the rest of it out, you go and have a beer or sleep or whatever it is you do when you are not being foreman.”

***

As soon as Jeff left Jensen handed Jared a handkerchief and watched as the younger man wiped his eyes, cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“No one is blaming you,” Jensen said, finally. “That bastard got what he deserved.”

“He wanted to break Midnight.” Jared looked tired, stunned. “He wasn’t ready.”

“You really take care of those horses, don’t you?” Jensen grinned. “You seem to know everything about them.”

“I got all of my knowledge from your great-grandfather.” Jared bit his lip. “He – well – he sort of left the information.”

“How did he do that?” Jensen frowned. “You didn’t know him or even work close to him. How could he have left you the information?”

“He – there is a journal.” Jared looked a little shamefaced. “I should have maybe shown you sooner but I wasn’t sure if you would have been interested, seeing as you are you selling the place and everything.”

Jensen’s stomach clenched. “Fair enough.”

“He talks about each horse; their sires and their offspring. He is such an expert – um, was such an expert. Of course, most of the horses he talks about aren’t here now but they are the descendents and he seems to know each line intimately, but none as intimately as he knows Midnight. He – if you read it – he did such wonderful things with his first horse and it is so inspiring.”

“So he talks about more than the horses then?”

“Some of it is very personal.” Jared flushed again. “I haven’t read that stuff it seems wrong somehow.”

“Can I read it? I mean you were right; I wouldn’t have been interested when I first came but things have changed a little. I’ve changed a little.” He looked up to find Jared smiling at him, dimples and everything. “We could – um – maybe look at it together over dinner.”

“Yeah.” The flush on Jared’s cheeks deepened from pink to red. “That would be nice.”

“Not here though.” Jensen felt an odd tingling inside, his stomach rolling, heart beating double time. It was like asking some girl out but twice as bad and he realized he was shuddering like a schoolchild, stuttering and stammering, all coolness gone.

“Sure. There is a great rib joint in town we could go there.”

“Saturday?”

Jared looked as if Jensen had just offered him the moon and sun tied together in a bow and he beamed wide and excited. “Yeah,” he replied, finally. “Saturday.”

****

They took a cab; it was the first time Jensen had actually visited the town and he had to laugh because the tiny rows of houses, a handful of shops and the rib joint hardly qualified for the description. 

The rib joint was, understandably, crowded but Jensen had booked a booth and they were seated right away. It was a nice place, not corporate like he was used to but warm and intimate, the scents from the cooking making his mouth water. They ordered a pitcher of beer and waited for the menu giving Jensen ample time to Jared watch. The younger man looked better than he had but he still had a band-aid on his cheek, a multicolored black eye and a swollen lip. Jensen hoped the other guys looked worse and he also hoped that Chris would struggle to get another job. He certainly wouldn’t be supplying a reference.

Jeff had approached him about a new deputy and he had suggested Jared, much to Jeff’s amusement. Despite this, the older man had agreed with him and it was just a matter of how to approach the subject. Now though he didn’t want to talk or even think about work. As far as he was concerned this was a date and he wanted to treat it as such, wanted to wine and dine Jared, to court him and it felt odd but not as wrong as it would have felt before coming to Midnight.

Jared was talkative, which for him meant more than one or two words. He spoke in detail about horses and animals and Jensen felt somehow warmed by it all. After they had ordered their food, Jensen poured out another glass of beer and leaned forward.

“Tell me about your family,” he asked. “You hardly mention them.”

“They live in San Antonio,” Jared’s voice was pitched low, earlier enthusiasm gone. “I’ve not seen them for over five years. They never really came to terms with the fact that I’m gay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. My family is pretty much small town and blinkered like Chris.”

“I’m from a small town myself, you remember.” Jensen couldn’t help it, he reached across and put his hand over Jared’s watching the smile that curved up on the other man’s lips, the sudden compulsion to kiss them making him hot and bothered. “I was born on a farm, not too far from here, that my grandfather ran into the ground and yet here was the ranch owned by his father and I still don’t understand why he didn’t want it, or refused to even come here.”

“I guess all families have their secrets and their problems.” Jared wriggled his fingers and turned his hand until he could clasp it around Jensen’s hand. “This is – I mean . . . .” He flushed again. “I never expected this to happen.”

“And what is this?” Jensen was finding it hard to hold back a smile.

“I don’t know yet but I like it.” Jared squeezed his hand tight. “Are you going to stay?”

Jensen thought of all his ambitions, of selling the ranch and the livestock, of having his own business, of traveling the world. It was still within his grasp and he still wanted it but - but he had grown to really love the ranch, the outdoors, the horses and most of all . . . he pushed away the last thought. He was confused, didn’t know if he were up or down. He thought of his grandmother, of her southern ways, and her gentile nature. He thought about telling her, he would be staying, why he would be staying and of all the things he had grown to love about the ranch, he would be staying because of Jared.

He looked up into slanting hazel eyes and he felt lost. Jared was staring at him as if he held the world and, essentially, he did.

**** 

They ate everything put in front of them and ordered another pitcher of beer. The room was warm, Jensen felt relaxed, happy, and he could see by his expression that Jared felt the same. Partway through the evening, Jared reached down and put a leather bound book on the table. Jensen stared at it, knowing what it was and what it meant.

“It was your great-grandfather’s.” Jared’s long fingers played across the intricately decorated leather. “It’ll tell you everything you need to know about horseflesh and maybe a little more.”

Jensen looked at it and he felt a prickle of something, a need to know, a desperate searching for someone who had been missing from his life, family.

“Does it - I mean does he . . . .”

“I didn’t read the personal stuff.” Jared took a mouthful of his beer. “I just looked at what he wrote about the horses.” He smiled. “You should read it though.”

“I have no idea what to think,” Jensen sighed. “I spent my entire childhood wondering if I had any other family and my great-grandfather was here all along, and I never knew.”

“I guess he had his reasons.” Jared shrugged; his cheeks were pink and he was just on the verge of slurring his words and Jensen felt suddenly fond. He picked up the journal and tucked it safely under his arm.

***

“We should go,” he said, gently. “It is getting late and I guess we both have to be up early in the morning.”

“I’m gonna’ start training Midnight.” Jared rubbed his face and grinned. “You could come and watch if you want.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Jensen got to his feet and Jared followed, wobbling alarmingly.

“I bet you think I’m a lightweight,” Jared giggled and clung onto Jensen as they made their way outside to catch a cab. “Two pitchers of beer man – I’m flyin’.”

Jensen shook his head and almost fell as Jared bumped into him; they were close, too close, Jared’s breath hot and beer scented on his face, Jared’s hands big and warm on his shoulders.

“Jensen.” Jared sounded rough, voice low. “Jensen.”

Their lips met without movement and Jensen opened his mouth to let Jared inside. Tongues tangled, wet and eager, the taste of ribs and beer passed between them. Jensen had never kissed a man and he was astonished at the differences and the odd similarities. Jared’s lips were chapped, there was rough stubble scratching at his chin and the hands on his face were huge, strong, when a woman’s would have been weaker yet there was tenderness, a gentle insistence. Jared was holding him close, letting him set the pace and it was both exciting and humbling in equal measure.

They were alone; the street empty, their bodies close and illuminated in the thin sliver of moonlight. Jensen broke off for a moment to look into Jared’s eyes, saw everything and more reflected there. He groaned stuttering forward again and capturing Jared’s mouth in another kiss, refusing to consider it was wrong. He hadn’t even considered being gay at this point, that he might still decide to up and leave the ranch.

Jared returned the kiss with fervor; Jensen could feel him hot and hard against his thigh and he knew that he should pull back, As if he were reading his mind Jared put his hands on Jensen’s shoulder and pushed him gently away.

“I’m a big boy,” Jared whispered. “There is no need to wrap me in cotton wool.”

Jensen knew he was right but he also knew what Jared had gone through, knew how quiet and shy he had been. He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Why? Cause you’re not gay.” Jared laughed, wryly. “Sometimes it doesn’t matter Jensen. Sometimes it doesn’t matter what you are or who you are, sometimes you just – you know . . . .” He flushed. “Care for, who you care for.”

Jensen had an idea that Jared was taking about love but he couldn’t bring himself to respond, not yet maybe not ever. He felt bad, wrong to lead Jared on if there was no hope.

“Tell me you’ll stay,” Jared’s voice was still low and slurred and his eyes over bright. “At least until you’ve read the journal, at least till you know what happened with your great-grandfather.”

“Okay.” It wasn’t much to ask so he acquiesced, giving Jared what he wanted, at least for a short while. “But don’t build your hopes up.”

Jared looked at him for a moment and then smiled; Jensen couldn’t help but smile back and he reached for Jared’s hand, gave it a quick squeeze before the cab came.

They rode back to the ranch in silence and Jensen left Jared at the door to the stable block before striding back to his own room. It was late, maybe closer to morning and he was suddenly bone weary, his mind so full that he thought he would never be able to sleep. He was shocked to find his grandmother sitting in the study drinking tea and his heart leapt for a moment as he wondered what could have happened.

“I couldn’t sleep.” She patted the sofa and he felt compelled to sit next to her. “You were out late.”

“I went for ribs in town, with Jared.”

“Tall boy.” She smiled warmly, eyes creasing. “Nice manners though.” She tapped his knee. “If you lose your wanderlust you could do worse.”

“Grandmother he is . . . .”

“I don’t want to hear the word friend come from your lips, Jensen. I’ve seen that look before and it isn’t a look that you give to a friend.”

“I thought you would be shocked.”

“Enough has happened in my life to make me unshakable.” She smiled. “I’m glad you decided to stay here and I wish your grandfather could have let his bitterness go because we might have been happy here.”

“This is all a little much.” Jensen shook his head. “I never thought - .”

“I know.” His grandmother reached out and held him in her fragile arms. He let her hug him for a long time and then he broke the hug, yawning suddenly, realizing he might have regained his ability to sleep. “We make our own destiny, Jensen, make sure you make yours. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy and I have never seen you look happier than you do at this moment.”

“I don’t know if I’m staying yet.” Jensen couldn’t look his grandmother in the eye. He felt her hand come across and squeeze his tight, on his knee, and he shivered. His grandmother clucked, lips pursing, her fingers lightly touching the journal that he clutched in his trembling hands.

“What’s this?” She asked, gently.

“It’s my great-grandfather’s journal.” Finally, he got the courage up to look her in the eyes. “Jared had it. Apparently most of it is about the horses but there are some personal things in there and he thinks I should read them.”

“He’s very fond of you.” His grandmother stared at the journal. “You should – you should try and stay, if only for him.”

“Grandma . . . ,” he began but she put up her hand and shushed him.

“Go to bed and read the journal,” she said, softly. “Maybe you will feel better about things in the morning.”

Jensen nodded; he got up and gave her a kiss, walking up the stairs in the glow of her smile.

****

**July 1917**

_I was foolish to think that the chaos in Europe would pass us by. The cry for arms has gone up across the land and I am duty bound to join my friends and colleagues, much to mother’s dismay and father’s anger. He tried so hard to make me remain and she used my fiancée and any future children as enticement to trap me, to keep me here but I have to go. I do not want anyone to think of me as a coward._

_My father would not lend me the car, so I rode Midnight into town; my last show of defiance. We left late when it was dark and icy but that did not stop my magnificent horse. We cantered down the drive and onto the road and then we rode fast into town to where they were holding the recruitment drive._

_The officer was older than I was, but not by much; he looked me up and down and smiled and then he looked at Midnight and his smile grew wider._

_“Am I in the right place to sign up?” I asked, even though I knew the answer._

_“Both of you?” He ran his hand down Midnight’s flank. “We could use good horseflesh.”_

_The horse looked at me; he is mine, has always been mine since he was a foal. I have taught him everything he knows, tamed him. Dark eyes met mine and I shuddered. I don’t want to go but I have to. I don’t want to leave my family, my home, the people who love me and I certainly don’t want to leave on a bad note, everyone hating me._

_Only a coward would stay at home though and I am not a coward. Midnight looked at me and I smiled. He isn’t a coward either. We are best friends, forged together by love and loyalty. We are of an age – we will go together._

*** 

**Present Day**

Jared was in the stable block grooming the stallion; the horse still looked as magnificent as it had the first day Jensen had seen it and now, since reading the first few pages of his great-grandfather’s personal journal, he had some idea of why. 

He thought about the way Ross Ackles had talked about the horse; thought about the way he had described his sleek coat, the bond between them. Jensen had owned pets on the farm but his memory of them was distant. Mangy dogs whom he never really formed a bond with and a rabbit or two. A pony when he had been a boy and a horse when he had grown. His grandfather had wanted him to appreciate horseflesh but he had been too selfish to care much, wanting only to pass his schooling and move to the city and make his fortune in green paper rather than with green grass.

His great-grandfather had loved the horse that was clear, but to take him to war. Sure Jensen had heard of the play, ‘War Horse’ and read about the film but he hadn’t imagined, even for a moment, that it was real, that it actually happened. He tried to think about how it would have been. Ross had been nearly ten years younger than he was and yet he felt obliged to fight for his country’s freedom and to take his beloved horse with him.

Jared looked up and saw him, raised a big hand in acknowledgement. Jared’s chest was bare, sweat glistening on his chest and stomach, hair stuck to his neck, muscles moving under his tanned skin. Jensen’s mouth was dry as he stared, remembering the first day he had seen Jared do this, remembering his kiss, and the way it made him feel. The words in his great-grandfather’s journal, the surge of feelings that talking to his grandmother had formed, they all churned in his gut and he moved, swift and fast, across the yard and into Jared’s waiting arms.

****

Jared’s mouth was hard on his own, arms gripping his shoulders, slim hips pressed up against his, bones jutting. He was scrabbling at Jensen’s belt, hands confident and sure. They were moving backwards into the stable, away from the bright sunlight and the curious horses. Jensen’s body was on fire, his cock hard in his jeans, heart thundering. Jared pushed him gently and he fell onto the sweet scented hay with Jared following him down. He could feel Jared’s heart beating in harmony with his own and he held the younger man closer, their kiss growing deeper and deeper.

He should say no now, he should stop all of this but he couldn’t, wouldn’t, the feel of another man’s hands alien but welcome. This was something he never imagined he would want or need but he was shaking right down to his bones, his body tense and hard against the other man, his cock almost bursting with the need for friction. Big hands ripped at his belt and long fingers wrapped around needy flesh. He was leaking, his balls already tight. Jared was panting in his ear, his own cock so solid against Jensen’s thigh. Jensen fumbled with Jared’s fly and managed to get that eager cock in his hand. Jared was bigger, thicker, but no less needy and, suddenly, they were jerking each other off, both of them panting and moaning working towards their climax.

Jared came first with a moan and Jensen followed him down. It was dirty and wonderful and it didn’t feel wrong. He had just pleasured another man, just gotten off with another man’s hand on his cock, and yet it had been one of the most wonderful orgasms he had ever had. Jared was panting soft in his ear and Jensen turned to see his flushed face, smile making his dimples deep within red cheeks.

“Never leave,” Jared whispered. “Stay here with me and make your great-grandfather’s dream a reality.”

Jensen ran his fingers down Jared’s face and cupped his cheek tenderly.

“This should never have happened,” he said, softly.

“You don’t regret it though?” Jared looked frightened for a moment and Jensen shook his head.

“No – I don’t.”

“There is so much more we can do.” Jared was smiling now, big and bold, shyness replaced by eagerness hard to ignore. “If you stay, that is.”

“Are you going to train me alongside Midnight?”

“Yeah! Before the end of summer, I’ll have you both broken in.” Jared rolled onto his back and pulled Jensen into his arms, hugging him close and tight.

“I’ll take that as a challenge,” Jensen replied and he realized that, for the first time in his life, he was truly, truly happy.

****

**December 1917**

_It was ambitious of them to think that we would be home for Christmas._

_If hell exists, this is it; this blood soaked, mud splattered hole where we have to hide. I have been fortunate because I have my best friend here with me, Midnight who is useful to the army. Midnight who can pull stretchers, Midnight who can gallop across ‘No Man’s Land’ and fetch our injured. I will not let anyone but I ride him and my superiors have given me the onerous task of helping the medics. I have not seen any real fighting yet but I do see the results of the terrible battles that are raged here and I will never be able to sleep again without nightmares._

****

**Present Day**

Jensen spent the next few days reading his great-grandfather’s journal and watching Jared train Midnight. 

They didn’t talk about what had happened in the stable block that day but it was obvious that there was further sexual tension between them, affecting their easy friendship. He knew Jared wanted more of him. He could see it with every glance, hear it in every word but he just couldn’t quite give that last bit of himself, or cross that last line. He wasn’t gay and, in the past, had enjoyed women in all their glory but he realized that, since coming here, he hadn’t even thought about them at all.

Jared was, in some ways, like his great-grandfather - an enigma. On the surface, he was gorgeous, tall, lithe, fit, and healthy and tanned from time spent outdoors working. He was as confident riding a horse as he was on the ground. Underneath though, he was different, he was shy and modest despite his size. He was loving, gentle and kind and it was hard to imagine anyone hating him because of his sexual preferences, hard to imagine his family letting him go.

When Jensen read his great-grandfather’s journal, he often thought of Jared even though it was foolish. He imagined, despite his denials, that Jared knew as much about horses as Captain Ross had done and he was glad that Jeff had given Jared ‘a break’.

****

Jensen took the mail and sat down at the breakfast table. Sometimes he still felt as if he was living in an episode of Dallas when he came down to breakfast and found it all laid out on the table as if there were a whole family eating instead of just him, his grandmother and Jeff. He had asked Jared on numerous occasions to join him but the younger man had always refused. He seemed to find it difficult to reconcile being an employee with being Jensen’s friend and Jensen didn’t want to push him on that as it made Jared uneasy.

He sighed as he opened the first letter and then the second. Both were bills and not his area of expertise. He usually passed these on to Jeff or his grandmother to take care of. The third letter looked very official and he frowned, slitting it open and laying it out on the table in front of him, heart thundering.

He should have expected that this would happen eventually but he had no idea that it would happen so fast. It was an offer for everything, the ranch, the horses and the land. He ran his finger over the figures on the white sheet, tiny black objects that might hold his future. He had never seen so much money written down, so many zeros. It would make him so wealthy he could even make some sort of, ‘top 50 richest people’ list. He was tempted and why shouldn’t he be? He could do anything, be anything and this was his opportunity.

Still reeling he started to open the remaining piece of mail; it was in complete contrast to the others, a grubby envelope with almost illegible writing. Jensen frowned and opened it carefully, almost warily. There was a piece of lined paper inside, obviously ripped from a notebook, and Jensen put it in front of him, stomach churning as he read the words that were scrawled so crudely on the paper.

Ask your precious faggot, Jared why his family don’t see him no more. Ask that, butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth homo about his step-dad and see if you trust him then.

Jensen felt like he might vomit. It was easy to guess who had sent this filth but why and for what purpose, he wasn’t sure. His mind went back to the fact that Jeff had given Jared a break, that Jared needed a break. He knew that Jared didn’t like to talk about his family but he had assumed it was because they had refused to accept his sexuality. Jensen put his hand to his head and refused to acknowledge the tingling and burning in his eyes. What a fuck up that these two letters should arrive on the same day and how could he even begin to approach any of this with Jared. He bit his lip and got to his feet, appetite gone. He had to know the reasoning behind this or he would never be able to look Jared in the face again. With a sigh he picked up his cell and called Jeff’s number hoping that Jeff would tell him what he needed to know.

****

“I thought this might come up.” Jeff held the letter between his thumb and forefinger as if it were something dirty. “You can guess who sent this letter right?”

“I had my suspicions.” Jensen shook his head. “But I wasn’t sure; surely no one would be such a bastard.”

“Chris would! He had a good job, he thought he knew it all but Jared was better and I won’t have my employees bad mouthed not by anyone.”

“What does he mean?” Jensen hadn’t wanted to ask. “About Jared’s stepfather, what does he mean?”

“Jared killed his stepfather,” Jeff put it out there without any sugar coating and, for a moment, Jensen thought he might pass out. His head was spinning with all this new information.

“What?”

“Better you hear it from me rather than anyone else and certainly better you hear it from me rather than bother that boy with it. He is such a good man, Jensen and he deserves something good in his life.”

“But he killed a man?”

“He did it in self-defense, and to protect his momma. I know you are aware of the issues about his sexuality. His family didn’t take him coming out well, but his stepfather took it worst of all, and he started to bully the boy. It was small things at first like punches where they wouldn’t show but then he graduated to out and out beatings and one day Jared’s momma tried to protect him from those, she got in between her son and her husband, so he set on her too.”

“Jesus.” Jensen swallowed hard.

“The kid was studying hard, you know. He wanted to be a vet. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. You know how gentle he is, how good he is with the horses and it took an awful lot to break him but break him it did.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Chances are he wouldn’t tell you. He is so scared that what happened will make you think differently about him.” Jeff shrugged. “I’ve told him that he shouldn’t get too fond of you, Boss. You might just sell up and then you’ll be gone – we might all be gone. Hope not though, cos I think it is a little too late. Jared – Jared might just already be in love with you.”

Jensen flushed; he couldn’t even begin to imagine what Jared had been through, couldn’t even start to figure out what had happened. He wouldn’t and couldn’t blame Jared and it certainly didn’t make him feel any differently about the man – he was just sorry that it had happened at all.

“What happened to him – um – after?”

“He was in juvenile for a while but they soon let him free. He didn’t mean to kill the guy just wanted to protect his mom. There were no weapons involved just an ill-timed punch at a bully.”

Jensen was silent for a long time; he didn’t know what to do or say. Jeff leaned over and gave his shoulder a squeeze, eyes warm and knowing.

“You are so like Ross,” Jeff said, finally. “He was one for taking in waifs and strays too, especially after the war. Jared is a good kid, a real good kid and you should remember that.”

“I won’t treat him any differently you know that.”

“I know, but Jensen . . . .”

“Yeah?”

“Think about staying. It is nice to have an Ackles back at the ranch again.” 

****

**1918**

_This hell gets worse; it is unwise to make friends here even though it is hard not to. I am still riding, still bringing back what is left of our men. There are so many deaths, arms, and legs blown away. The only constant is Midnight and I dare not love anyone but him. My momma writes to me, as does my father and it would appear that I may have been forgiven. The surprise is my fiancée, still wanting to wed me when I return (if I return). I often think of the farm, of the acres of land where we ride and I long for home._

_It was my choice to be here though and my choice alone. Despite everything I cannot regret it._

****

**Present day**

Jensen got some comfort from reading Ross’s journal but it didn’t help him solve his own dilemma. He wished he had a friend to talk to but he had been a workaholic and had no real close friends within his social circle. Mostly his nights out had been hedonistic and had ended in either drunkenness, sex or both.

Jared was in love with him and he had to handle that in his own way. He was certain that he felt a lot more than affection for Jared but he didn’t know if he could handle it, if he wanted to handle it. The offer on the table did give him a way out but he wasn’t sure he wanted to take that either. He had never been so conflicted, he was between a rock and a hard place and he didn’t know what to do.

****

Jared was in the stable block; he had Midnight on a lead rope, attached to a halter, and the horse was cantering obediently around the paddock. Jensen stood and watched for a long time, watched horse and man so trusting of each other.

“Hey,” his voice was rough and he knew that his throat was thick with tears but he wasn’t sure why. “Looking good.”

“Yeah.” The smile Jared turned on him was like fire and Jensen could see that it lightened his eyes and deepened his dimples. “He should be ready to ride soon.”

“Will you ride him?” Jensen came closer, the compulsion to touch Jared almost burning him from the inside out.

“It should be you, really.” Jared tied the lead rope to the fencing and the horse stopped moving, whinnying softly and nosing the floor. “He is your horse, after all.”

“I’m not that good or confident a rider.” Jensen reached out and drew Jared in. “You should know that.”

“Yeah, but a few more lessons for both of you - .” Jared was laughing as Jensen crashed their lips together. He kissed hard and passionate, his fingers tangling in Jared’s soft hair, the scent of horses, hay and something that was uniquely Jared heady in his nostrils.

Jared moaned and leaned back against the fence so that Jensen could lean in. He could feel how hard and eager Jared was and he wanted, God he wanted so much.

“Would you come back to the ranch with me?” He broke the kiss to draw breath. “Please, Jared.”

Jared’s eyes were, impossibly, brighter and his cheeks flushed pink.

“Yeah,” he gasped, finally. “Sure.”

And Jensen took his hand and led him as sure as Jared had led Midnight knowing that, for once, he was doing the right thing.

****

Jared lay naked on the big bed, tanned skin brown against the white cotton of the sheets. Jensen could only stand and stare at him, lost and aroused in equal measures. This wasn’t like before, wasn’t some quick fumbling session in the straw, this meant something. It had to mean something.

“Come on.” Jared’s eyes were bright, eager. “I’m not delicate, I won’t break.”

“I’ve never . . . ,” Jensen stuck for the right words. “. . . With a man, before.”

“I have and it’s okay to do what we did together the first time.” Jared flushed pink across his cheekbones. “God, Jensen – what you do to me.”

Jensen pulled off his over shirt and jeans, fumbling with his underwear. He felt dazed, turned on, his skin tingling as he stood bare in every way. Jared licked his lips and lowered his eyes. For a moment he was that shy groom that Jensen had seen on their very first day and he couldn’t move, couldn’t even think.

“Jensen.” Jared opened his arms and Jensen almost fell into them; both of them were laughing breathlessly, rolling around on the sheets for a moment, hot and sweaty. Then bodies met, flesh touched and they stilled. Jensen felt a hardness against his thigh, lips nibbling on the soft, sensitive flesh on his throat and he moaned, his own erection telling him that his body was responding just as well to a man as it had to a woman.

It was different but just as hot; Jensen felt stubble against his skin as Jared moved his mouth across it. He felt the roughness of Jared’s fingers, callused through years of hard work. Jared’s mouth was strong, his hands big and sure and, before he was aware, Jensen appeared to be lying between the V in Jared’s thighs, Jared’s legs wrapped around his waist, ankles digging into his spine, inviting him.

“Please,” Jared’s voice was as soft as a whisper. “Please Jensen.”

Easing inside wasn’t easy; it was warm and tight and God he thought he might come just from that. Jared was groaning but not in pain and Jensen knew he was still hard, slicked against his belly, teeth nipping at Jensen’s flesh. 

“I love you,” the words were on Jared’s lips as he came and Jensen felt him down to his bones, down to his very foundations. It was easy rather than frantic and it was fond rather than lustful but it was the best sex he had ever had and he came with a shout, following Jared over the edge.

Jared was panting; he moaned as Jensen pulled out and then he rolled so that his head was on Jensen’s shoulder, big hands rubbing through Jensen’s hair.

“Please stay,” it was his mantra in moments like these, never repeated in the light of day but meant with a passion and a need that was beyond Jensen’s understanding.

“Jared.” He held on, couldn’t do anymore than that. What Jared had done in the past didn’t matter to him, it would never matter. Jared was no more a killer than Jensen was a natural rider and he would never tell Jared what he knew, not unless Jared offered it to him, not unless Jared told the story.

“I love you,” Jared repeated. “Don’t leave me.”

Jensen kissed the words from his mouth and hung on.

****

**1918**

_I have tried not to make too many friends – tried not to get close to anyone but it is hard. I met a boy – Adam – from another company. He likes horses too. When we talked, I discovered he is a groom at a ranch in Colorado somewhere. He is a great rider and an even better trainer. We spend hours together and he helps me to groom Midnight, to get the blood and mud from his coat, and the mess from his hooves. Adam ran away from his ranch to join up. He is too young really; lied about his age but no one seemed to care. At this moment in time, they would take children if they thought the war would end._

_We are friends but we are becoming so much more. Adam is beautiful; I am not a homosexual but I want him and he wants me. We dance around it all the time because, deep down we are afraid, both of others, and of our feelings but we both could be dead tomorrow, blown apart by grenades. I know it is wrong on so many levels but I don’t care. I cannot bring myself to care. Tonight I will lay with him and damn the morning._

****

**Present Day**

Jensen woke with a yawn and stretched out long and lazy. It was barely dawn but already the sun was flooding through the half open blinds. Beside him, Jared slept peacefully, arm slung across his face, cheeks flushed and pink. Jensen felt a stab of affection, of need and of confusion. He thought about the words in his great-grandfather’s journal and it made his heart ache. His own situation was nothing like his great-grandfathers, not really, but he still felt a link to Ross and to what Ross had gone through.

Jared had told him that he loved him and it made him warm inside. Jared was his reason for staying, for still being here. It was because of Jared that he had ignored the zeros on that piece of paper but he couldn’t evade it forever. The offer was good, better than good, and it was still on the table. Jensen knew he would have to meet with the potential buyer but he just couldn’t face it, couldn’t bring himself to think about leaving.

Jared muttered something and turned over, long arms wrapping around him and pulling him closer, closer. Jensen swallowed hard and let himself go, nuzzling Jared’s neck and kissing him awake both of their bodies alive and alert, hard flesh against hard flesh. It was easy to lose himself in Jared, the younger man already loose and relaxed from the night before, easy to pull him closer and bury himself deep. 

Afterwards he fell into sleep again and when he woke a second time Jared was gone.

****

**1918**

_We are together nearly all of the time and it is wonderful. I have never really loved anyone before, not like this. My fiancée was pretty and sweet and I liked having her on my arm but she never moved me in the way Adam does. Perhaps I am unnatural but I cannot dwell on it. Adam is the only other person I will allow on Midnight’s back and the horse seems to love him and trust him as much as he does me. I love the time we spend together and, as foolish as it sounds, I am happy, happier than I have ever been and, given the circumstances, it seems odd and wrong but now there is something to live for._

_Adam whispers that he loves me and he asks me to stay with him; not just here but afterwards when we are released from this hell, when the war is finally over. Adam has a world of ideas but wants to run a ranch of his own, to breed thoroughbreds to race in all of America’s (and indeed the worlds) greatest races. He strokes Midnight and talks excitedly about what we could do together, what we might achieve. I can only stare at him, and consider him foolish. We are two men, we can never do that and I tell him as much. He looks disappointed, let down, looks as if I have shot him in the heart. He begs me, tells me he cares nothing for the thoughts of other folk and I should care nothing either. I know he is right but I am an Ackles and we are men, men with pride, and men with a history. I think he might cry but I have to tell him no and he looks at me with sad eyes and nods, acceptance bleak on his face. That night he goes to join his battalion despite the fact that he could stay with me and help with the medics, stay with me and stay reasonably safe. He goes and my conscience stings me, tells me I am wrong._

_They came to me to tell me Adam was injured and out on the battlefield and I could not let that happen; could not leave him alone and in pain. I took Midnight and rode out into the heat of the battle, officers cries in my ears. I could get into trouble for this but I do not care. I have given something to Adam that no one has ever had, not my fiancée, not my family and it is up to me to save him. It is also my fault he is there, my own stubborn fault and if I can get to him, if I can explain, we may still have our happy ending and I can live with my guilt._

_The guns boom around us, and the air is a cacophony of noise. Grenades explode beneath the horse’s hooves but he is brave and headstrong and we gallop out into danger without a thought, flames roaring behind us, the rattle of weapons before us. I see Adam then, see him lying face down in the dirt. There is blood and I cannot know if this is a good or bad thing but I dismount quickly and pull him into my arms. He still breathes but it is faint, a slight puff against my hectic skin. I haul him up over Midnight’s saddle and I turn around and head back to the bunker. It is a miracle that we were not killed and I believe that God has saved me for some reason._

_The medics take Adam and I sit next to the horse, listening to him panting, wiping the sweat from his flanks. He whinny’s, black eyes panicked and wild but he stills when I rub my face up against his, whispering words of comfort, telling him how brave he is._

_The medic tells me the bad news and an hour later, I am disciplined before the entire garrison. It is, in reality, a smack on the wrist but my heart aches so much that I cannot help but weep, as everything is gone._

_It is my own fault for letting Adam in, for giving him what was left of my heart and then rejecting him. I did not think it would end like this but I should have realized. I should have known it. The boy hadn’t even lived and now he is dead, thrown into the pit with the rest of the lost ones and all I have is my horse. My loyal black stallion, the two of us alone against a world that has gone mad._

****

**Midnight ******

_A horse might come across as flighty or dangerous but often they are timid, slightly afraid. They can hurt you with their hooves or even bite down hard with their teeth but if you have the courage to ride them, to be masterful to them then you will have a loyal friend for life._

_I am going to train Midnight and I am going to put him out to stud. I want this horse, this wonderful young horse to sire a great line. Midnight is strong a strong stallion, healthy and, like me, has survived much. One day I will try to explain all of this to my family but for now it is just me and my wonderful, fiery black stallion and we will make it work; we have to make it work._

****

**Present day**

The rancher reminded Jensen of something out of a bad seventies movie: his suit was shiny and ill fitting, buttons straining across his rounded stomach, sweat sticking his thinned hair to his forehead. He wore a wide cowboy hat and a Texan belt buckle and he was like a bad cliché. Jensen shook his hand and gestured that he should sit, ringing the maid for iced tea and trying to play the hard-nosed ranch owner.

The money on the table was more than he had originally offered; he wanted the ranch, the horses and the land. He wasn’t going to sell anything on he promised, just always wanted to race horses and Ross Ackle’s horses were the best racers in the land. Jensen listened, made all the right noises, but he was staring out of the window admiring the glorious day, wishing he were riding out with Jared, wishing they were at the creek getting cool.

“I’ve heard good things about Captain Ross’s Midnight Stallions,” the man had a booming Texan voice and very little style. “I wondered if I might go along and look at the latest in a long line.”

“He’s being broken in.” Jensen didn’t really understand the terminology but he knew that is what Jared was working on. “We have an excellent groom who has a way about him.”

“Then can we take a stroll over and look.” The man grinned like a shark waiting to bite. “I would like to see the land to, as I am gonna’ be spending a lot of money on this place.”

Jensen opened his mouth and then closed it again. He wanted to say that he hadn’t made up his mind yet, that he wasn’t going to sell, that he was growing to love, not only the land but other things, better things. He swallowed hard and bit back anything he might have wanted to say.

“Yeah,” he agreed, finally. “Let’s go and see him in action. You will find that he is as good as they say he is.”

The man beamed. “Lead on,” he said and Jensen, reluctantly, opened the door and stepped out into the morning.

****

Jared had the horse on a lead rope again and he was making encouraging noises as the stallion galloped around the paddock, head high. Jensen paused for a moment watching, his breath in his throat but his companion just clicked his tongue, lifted his head and whistled through his teeth.

“Magnificent,” he said.

Jared stopped and pulled the horse in. He turned and Jensen saw the confusion in those slanting hazel eyes.

“Jensen?” Jared looked from Jensen to the man beside him and his expression was bewildered.

“Mighty fine horse you have there, son.” The fat Texan moved closer to Jared and put his pudgy fingers on the horses’ neck. Midnight whinnied in what sounded like distress and Jared stared at the man, his expression morphing from bewilderment to anger.

“Don’t touch him,” Jared spoke politely but firmly. “He doesn’t like to be touched.”

“I’ll touch what is mine, son.” The Texan drew himself up but it was pointless, he was at least a foot shorter than Jared was and he didn’t even begin to look threatening.

“This horse belongs to Jensen. He belongs to the Ackles family.” Jared’s eyes narrowed. “He isn’t yours.”

“He will be, son.” The man grinned, predatory. “And so will you, cos I am buying the staff in with the ranch and you – you stretch, look like you need a little lesson in manners.”

“Jensen?” Jared’s face was pale, eyes fixed on Jensen’s face, pleading. “I didn’t – you said . . . .”

“You don’t talk to your boss like that, son. He is your boss at the moment and you will show him some respect.” The Texan puffed out his chest like a fighting cock. “Your boss here knows good money when he sees it and my offer is better than fair.” He lifted his hand and scrubbed it up and down the horse’s flank. “Now, I want this young buck ready for racing and it is your job to do it – do it, son and make your new boss and your old one proud.”

Jared looked stunned, his eyes desperate and lost. For a moment, Jensen didn’t know what to do, what to say and he cleared his throat, searching for the right words.

“Do as he says Jared,” he said, finally. “Carry on training Midnight.”

Jared’s mouth opened and it was as if a shutter had come down. For the first time Jensen saw a man capable of killing, a man capable of real anger. Jared’s body shook with it, his eyes burnt with it and the twist of his mouth told Jensen that he was almost too close to danger.

“Yes, Boss,” Jared’s words spoken with real bitterness, the tone in his voice one Jensen had never heard before. “I’ll do my job, Boss.”

Jensen felt as if his heart might shatter and he put his hand on the small Texan’s back and turned him around.

“Let’s move on,” he said, woodenly. “We have lots more to see before sundown.”

****

Jared led Midnight back into the stable: his head hurt and his eyes were stinging and all he wanted to do was to go back to the bunk room, pack his things and go but he had the horses to consider and he loved them too much to just abandon them. 

He settled the big, black stallion into his stall and then began to groom him, towel him down. The horse stood still and trusting and Jared couldn’t bear it a moment longer, he buried his head into the horse’s rough neck and began to cry. 

Tears wet the stallion’s rough coat and Jared hugged closer, he wanted to stop but he couldn’t, now the floodgates had opened there was no closing them and he felt so lost and alone, everything he had believed to be real collapsing before him.

He realized, foolishly, that Jensen had never made him any promises about staying but he had believed he would. Shit, what a fool he was. He had never been accepted anywhere, really, so why should this place be any different. He had lost his family, lost his home and he had almost lost his freedom now – now he had lost Jensen and it was this last loss that hurt the most.

He hadn’t meant to kill his stepfather but the guy had been hurting him for months and Jared had taken it. His stepfather loved goading him, calling him a faggot and a girl, slapping him, kicking him, and constantly telling him what a disappointment he was. He took it all until the man had tried to hurt his momma and then he had cracked, punched the fucking bully in the head. One punch and it had killed him. Judge had said Jared was a gentle giant who didn’t know his own strength, and that was true enough. His momma had been angry with him though and had told him not to come home when they let him out of juvenile detention, told him that he wouldn’t be welcome anymore. He missed his family, missed his brother and his sister. He hated the fact that he couldn’t go to university, couldn’t study to be a vet like he had always wanted to. When Jeff had given him the job here he had been overjoyed and when Jeff had told him that Jensen was going to come and run the place he had been excited and he had wanted to make a good impression.

Now, though, it had all gone wrong and he felt as if he had lost everything all over again. He wouldn’t work for the man who had come here today. That man knew nothing about horses or how they ticked, he just had dollar signs in his eyes, and he didn’t want anything from Midnight but money and fame. Jared buried his face deeper and sobbed harder. He had thought, foolishly, that Jensen loved him. He had thought that he might be able to make a life here with Jensen, maybe breed horses like the Captain talked about in his journal, take them out to stud, to race, have fun and share the good and bad times together.

Now he had nothing; Jensen was clearly selling up, going back to the life he enjoyed before. Jensen did not love Jared in the same way. Maybe Jensen had been using him for amusement to fend off boredom, maybe Jensen thought he was worthless and pathetic as his stepfather had, and like Chris had. Jared couldn’t hold back the sobs now and he slid to his knees in the horse’s stall and let himself fall face first into the hay.

Tomorrow he would leave this place behind him and tomorrow he would have to try to start his life afresh, again. 

 

**1919**

_I am home and it should be like a miracle but it is not and I believe I will never be the same again._

_We are both home; Midnight and I, the two of us surviving, yet there is something broken inside me, something I cannot connect and I am hardly myself again._

_I married as expected and my new wife seems happy enough; the farm feels oddly small and claustrophobic and I want to spend most of my time in the fields or riding Midnight. I recall, so long ago, that I wanted to ride him in sweepstakes and I wonder if I still could. I can remember how fast he was that night, the night we rode into hell to try futilely to save Adam._

_My wife has told me she is pregnant and I know I should be happy but I cannot feel it. Perhaps I would be happy if I race my beloved horse, earn some money for my family. My father doesn’t appear to notice that I am discontented and my mother is so taken with the coming child to notice anything else. They were pleased to see me home of course, but they do not like to talk about it and I cannot expect them to understand. My wife talks about romance and love and reads all of the dime romance novels she can find in the local store. Real love died back in Europe and the only true affection I feel now is for my horse. Others might laugh at this but I do not care._

_When you have lived through what I have lived through, you think about things differently._

****

**Present day**

Jensen’s grandmother was in the dining room sipping mint tea and staring down at something she was holding in her hand. 

“You have been reading this?” Her question meant he didn’t have to wonder what she was reading and he bit his lip as he took the seat opposite her pulling the pot towards him and pouring himself a generous cup full, the scent of mint and something else strong in his nostrils.

“Yes,” his answer was cautious. “You told me to read it, remember?”

“I was right.” His grandmother smiled. “You should be reading it, it is certainly an education. You don’t appear to have learned much from it so far, by the looks of things. Is that why that man came? To buy the place?”

“How did you . . . ?”

“I saw him yesterday, swanning around like your signature was already on the dotted line. Jensen, you can’t do this, not after everything. I thought, I thought you were settled here.”

“I – the offer is amazing, do you know that? The things I could do with all that money. I could set up my own business, I could travel, I could see the world, and I could make something of myself.”

“You can do all that here, Jensen. This place is beautiful; it is worth all the dollars that man is offering you, and more. I had the impression that you were happy here. That you had found . . . .”

“I am happy here, it is just that –.”

“You, Ackles men! – You are all such stubborn cowards.” His grandmother’s face was stony but her eyes were sad. “Look at you all, forever running away from what is right in front of you.”

“How can you say that? This place – this beautiful place has been yours and grandfathers for seven years and you never even came here. How can you call me a coward? How can you call my great-grandfather a coward? He rode – did you know that he rode through gunfire to try and save his best friend?”

“Yes, Jensen I knew about that. Yes, your great-grandfather was brave in the physical sense but neither he nor your dear grandfather could face what was in front of them. Whenever confronted by strong emotions, they just ignored them, buried their heads in the sand or upped sticks and ran away from them. They all had this burning desire inside of them, something that told them that whatever was beyond the horizon was better than what they already had.” She sighed. “That boy . . . .” She made a vague gesture to where the stable block was. “Loves you and any fool can see it, any fool but you it appears.”

“Grandmother . . . .”

“If you are going to make a great speech about how you aren’t gay, how you have always loved women don’t waste your breath. You love where you love, Jensen. My mother-in-law, your great-grandmother, she was unloved and she knew she never held her husband’s heart. He had already given it away once and when he came back from Europe, all he ever loved was that damn horse. Your grandfather never really knew him, he grew up without a dad and without a role model and all because of that odd wanderlust that drove your great-grandfather on,” she said and sighed again. “They tell me you are very like him, Jensen and they are right.”

“What happened to him? Why did he set up here? Why not go back to the farm?”

His grandmother threw the journal at him.

“It is all here, in this book,” she said. “Why don’t you read it?”

“I want to hear it from you.”

“I was a young bride when I arrived at that farm for the first time and your great-grandfather was already a distant figure. Never really, saw him much beyond Sunday lunches and church. He was already racing Midnight and had won some important trophies but the horse was getting old and he was sorely afraid he would be left alone. He wanted to breed the beast but there were no suitable fillies in the area and so he started going further and further afield, working with other ranchers, working on other farms, all the time trying to find a horse good enough to breed with his. One day he went away and just never came back.”

 

Jensen stared at her and then stared down at the journal.

There was more to this, he knew that, but he just didn’t want to read about it, didn’t want to face up to it. Overwhelmed by emotion, he knew his grandmother was right. He wanted to sell up and go, run away, before he was swept up in something that would cause him genuine pain. He got to his feet and stumbled from the room with his grandmother’s words ringing behind him. He didn’t know the full story by any means but, now, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

****

Jensen’s grandmother was in a chair on the porch; it was early evening and the air was just beginning to chill. She stared out at the distant horizon and wondered if she should think about going home. She hadn’t been back to her farm since after the funeral and she knew Jeff had someone around there taking care of things but she felt a sudden pang of homesickness even though the place was rundown and cold.

She looked up suddenly to see the tall groom, Jared, walking slowly down the path. He was leading the big black stallion and the horse was following him like an obedient dog.

“Good evening, Ma’am.” He tilted his head, long chestnut hair falling into slanting cat-like eyes that seemed to blaze as blue as the darkening sky, yet shine as green as the grass beneath them. “It’s a little late for sittin’ out.”

“I was just taking in the scenery.” She smiled at the man and he smiled back at her, all white teeth and dimples. He was so tall and slender and very, very striking and she wished that she could make her grandson see sense but she had never held any sway with Ackles men and she wasn’t really going to start now.

“It is beautiful,” his voice was sad. “I’m gonna’ miss it.”

“You’re leaving?” Her heart sank further and she felt her own eyes sting with tears.

“Tomorrow.” Jared shrugged. “I just went to Jeff to ask him for what I was owed and I had to take Midnight out, had to see him run in the fields for the last time.” He swallowed hard and she saw his shoulders rise and fall. “He is a wonderful horse.”

“From good stock,” she hoped he would not hear the bitterness or irony in her voice. He seemed like a good boy, gentle and kind, no real malice in him but, like most men, she guessed he had his secrets. “But he is just a horse.”

Jared looked at her, head to one side, his expression curious.

“I guess so,” he said, finally, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him before. “I guess I sorta’ hoped he’d be Jensen’s one day.”

Her heart ached suddenly and she felt old down to her bones. She saw hopelessness in this boy’s eyes and she wanted to hug him.

“He is stubborn,” she said, finally. “He thinks he knows what he wants but he doesn’t. He is a fool.”

Jared’s face was shadowed in the dying light but she saw the flush that stained his cheeks, saw the sparkle of something in his eye.

“I love him, Ma’am,” he sounded proud not ashamed of the fact. “Tell him that and tell him I’m sorry we didn’t get to say a proper goodbye. Tell him to inform that fat oaf, he needs someone good to look after Midnight, because he may just be a horse but he has feelings too.”

“Yes, Jared I’ll tell him.” She leaned forward and he came nearer so that she could hold him close to her, smell the fresh scent of hay and horses which always clung to the men she knew, to the men she despaired of. “Take care,” she said and he nodded as, with the slow clop of hooves, man and horse disappeared into the sunset.

****

**2007**

_I am an old man now and have not written in this part of the journal for decades. When I look out of the window, I can see Jeff, my young foreman, working on some of the stallions that we have ‘sired’ together. The horses are magnificent and they have earned me more money than I thought it was possible to have in one lifetime. They have also won so many races for me and I know my name is famous worldwide._

_Yet still my family does not come._

_I have invited them on so many occasions. I have wanted this bitterness between us to end but my son will not answer my calls or my letters. I did not even know I had a grandson until I read about his death in the papers. My own grandson dead and I never even met him once. Perhaps there is another child out there I don’t know about, another Ackles man to make the family proud. I wish there was someone who can take over here, take over the ranch and the land but most of all look after the horses._

_I miss Midnight; he died old and happy, I guess. We sired him with the finest filly I could find and they had magnificent foals, which have gone on to have more. There is one grandsire already who will be spirited enough to be given the name Midnight after my old friend. I even named this ranch after him, a ranch I built to pass on to my family - a family who no longer want me._

_It is my own fault._

_I found my happiness in a bunker in Europe and I should have taken it then but I was too stupid to see the truth. We love where we love and I loved Adam. I loved him almost as much as I loved my old horse, although I fear I cried more when Midnight passed but that is because I am an ornery old cuss who has lived alone far too long._

_I couldn’t face things after the war; just wanted my horse and to race him as I had promised. I didn’t mean to leave. I didn’t mean to be gone so long but they have never forgiven me and it is too late now. I know my son is just as stubborn as I am. I see that the farm is losing money, I drive past it sometimes, see how worn it is looking. I guess I could stop the car, get out and announce my presence but I fear I will be shot in the head, so I keep on driving. My son will never leave the farm, he will work at it until his body gives out, and he will try everything to keep it going, thinking that if he can ever restore it again he will be happy._

_Happiness – we never know we have it until it is gone. All this money, all this fame, none of it makes me really happy. The big black horse that gallops by my window, the shaky legged foal that staggers into the world – I’ll take my happiness there but I realize now I had it and I let myself lose it and, in reality, I will never really be happy again._

_My destiny was to have horses ride in the world’s best sweepstakes and breed beautiful horses to pass on to my children. I may have achieved some of that, but how was I to know, my real destiny was to fall in love in a muddy pit? To fall in love in a place so remote, it had no name._

_If you are reading this – whoever you are – do not be so stubborn as to not see what is in front of you. Quit chasing or galloping into the sunset, your happiness is closer than you will ever know._

****

**Present Day**

Jensen didn’t take the car into town; he wanted to drink and to forget about everything. Jeff came with him, whether it was out of loyalty or wanting to know what was going on, Jensen had no idea. Neither of them talked much the long walk into town and the first words Jensen spoke when he entered the rib joint was to ask for two beers and a bottle of Jack.

They found a booth in the corner and it reminded Jensen of the first time he had been here with Jared. He swallowed hard because everything around here reminded him of Jared and it hurt – a lot.

His grandmother had told him she had seen Jared and that Jared had told her he was leaving. Jensen had rushed down to the bunkhouse and found it empty but for Jared’s stuff packed up and piled high on his bed. Part of Jensen knew he should stay, persuade the younger man not to leave, reassure him that the new owner would take care of him. Another part just wanted to pull Jared into his arms, hold him close, tell him he was staying, and tell him they had a chance. The final part, the cowardly part, stared at the pack on the bed for a long time and then just turned heel and left. It was that part of Jensen, which now sat in the rib joint getting quietly drunk and wondering just where it had all gone so wrong.

****

Jared didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye to the horses. He knew he should also see Jensen but he couldn’t even think about the man without his heart aching and he just wanted to get away. It was painful because he had nowhere to go, nobody to care about him and the terrible loneliness that had haunted him since he had been put into juvenile detention was now back with vengeance.

He went into the stable block and spoke to the horses one by one. He left Midnight until last and entered the stall with heavy heart. He buried his face in the horse’s neck for one last time and tangled his hands in the horse’s thick mane trying to press memories into his fingertips.

“Still here, boy?” 

Jared whirled around to see Chris standing in the shadows. His heart began to pound and sweat broke out on his forehead, the shock of seeing the older man nearly knocking off his feet.

“What the fuck?” He drew himself up to his full height, blinking away tears so that he didn’t show weakness. “What are you doing here?”

“You ruined my life,” Chris sounded matter-of-fact but there was madness in his eyes. “You got rid of me. This was the best job I had.”

“Look.” Jared raised his hands, palm up, gesture of surrender. “Jensen - the boss is selling up and the new boss . . . well I’m sure he’ll give you a chance.” His throat was thick with tears and regret was swamping his fear. “You just need to ask.”

“You are jokin’, right?” Chris snorted. “No one – no one, will give me a fucking job in this town again. Your precious Jensen made sure of that. My name is mud and yet you – a fucking murderer. . . . You get to stay.”

Jared felt his cheeks flush; he leaned against the thin wall and dug his feet in the straw to stay upright.

“Chris,” he began.

“I’m going to make sure you suffer in the same way I have suffered.” He grinned. “Only, you are never gonna’ be able to clear your name.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a lighter. “Straw,” he mused. “Straw is gonna’ burn quick, it will take care of the stable block and your precious fucking horses. The boss will think you’ve done it, bitter and twisted because he rejected you – rejected you and sold up. You already have a history of violent crime, so what’s a little arson?” He moved closer flicking his lighter on and off hypnotically. “They will find your body right here too. They will find your body and know you did it.”

Jared panicked then, legs coming back to life as he thrust forward, hands reaching out to Chris. He was bigger, stronger, and he had fought the guy off before. He wasn’t scared of him, but there was something. As he got his hands around Chris’s throat he felt something sharp stab into his side and the breath went out of him, something wet and warm seeped through his shirt and he knew, without doubt, that it was his blood. Even as he lay there stunned, he could feel the pain start up, doubling him over for a moment, with the bitter taste of salt bursting into his mouth. 

He could smell smoke and hear the harsh crackles of the flames; his head was spinning but he had one thought and one thought alone – the horses. He had to free the horses. Pain thrummed through him but he staggered to his feet slamming his hand into Midnight’s flank and driving the horse out through the ever-burgeoning flames, the whinnies and neighs of fear harsh in his ears. He moved on, stall to stall banging on the walls and setting the panicked horses free. 

He had to save them, he thought as he moved, legs slowing as if weighed down by lead, but he had to get them out of here.

****

Jensen was nearly done; his head was fuzzy and there was a lump in his throat, no amount of beer could get down. Jeff was still watching him, silent and judgmental but he hadn’t said a word.

Suddenly, through the hustle and bustle of the rib joint Jensen saw people moving anxiously to the window, heard shouts of horror and despair. He stood up trying to see what was happening and almost fell back down again when someone cried out, “Midnight Ranch is on fire!”

He pushed people aside staggering to the entrance and bursting through the doors, Jeff hot at his heels. Beyond the horizon, he could see the orange lick of flames, the grey smog of smoke. Panic and fear gripped him and he grabbed on to Jeff’s arm.

“What the hell . . . ?”

He heard a noise and turned to see one of the men from the rib joint trying to calm down a big black horse, which had appeared in the middle of the street. Jensen’s breath caught in his throat. It was Midnight.

“It isn’t the ranch,” Jeff was talking loud and fast in his ear. “One of the hands is up there now and just called. The fire is in the stable block and spread to the bunk house.” He shook Jensen hard. “He has called for help and the rest of the men are trying to fight the fire, to stop it spreading. There are fire trucks on their way.”

“Jared,” the name fell from his lips without him being able to hold it back. “He was still there.”

Jeff opened his mouth to say something but nothing came.

“I have to get there. He’s there, I know it.” He wanted to run, to flee but the ranch was miles from here and he had no car, no transport, no sign of a cab.

“The services are on their way, Jensen and there are already men there. There is nothing you can do, to go and try and do something yourself would be suicide.”

Jensen ignored him; heard nothing. He pushed aside, trying to calm Midnight out of the way and grabbed the horse’s mane. The beast was sweating and skittish, hooves pawing hard at the ground, nostrils flaring. Jensen ran a hand down his neck, rubbed a knuckle across his flanks and soothed him, talking softly.

“I need you to take me home,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around the horse’s neck. “I need you to take me back to Jared.”

It was like a dramatic cliché. He couldn’t do anything, the ambulance, the fire trucks were all on their way and Jared was probably long gone but something was driving him, there was something deep down inside of him that made him want to do this. He hadn’t ridden anything other than the gentle horse Jared had picked for him and yet here he was hitching himself over the flanks of a massive black stallion that hadn’t yet been properly broken in. His hands were shaking in the horse’s mane and he breathed out through his nose certain that he was going to end up on the pavement with a broken neck.

Midnight stood for a moment, legs shaking; he pawed the ground and whinnied in protest but he didn’t buck and he didn’t jump. For a moment Jensen sat there, high up from the ground, horseflesh clenched between his thighs, heart thundering. Then the horse moved forward a little, Jensen clicked his teeth and held on.

With no saddle he was clinging hard onto the mane, hands and fingers clenched in tight, he wondered if he should close his eyes but he kept them open, the fire and heat growing closer with every hoof beat. He could see the stable block, a mass of orange flame, fire spreading to the bunkhouse and beyond. His men, the employees, were everywhere with buckets of water and hoses. The fire trucks were already there too, spraying water into the chaos. An ambulance was skidding down the drive and there appeared to be people everywhere. He could hear noise all around him, the crackle of the fire, and the thunder of the water against the fire, the hiss of the smoke and the cries of the firefighters. It was like hell on earth and he rode through it, man and horse almost one together, the fact that the horse wasn’t even supposed to be tamed yet put aside. Midnight was letting him ride him, letting him stay up on his back, no saddle, no reins, just faith. It was his destiny to do this, he was an Ackles and this was his horse, his land, and his domain. He galloped across the grass and into the stable yard drawing the horse to a halt and slipping off the stallion’s back, running through the crowds until he reached the courtyard.

Jared lay on his back on a gurney; his shirt was black with soot and grime, water dripped from his hair onto the white pillow and there were smears of blood on his chest and thigh. His eyes closed, the medics working over him, syringes, oxygen masks and other equipment in their hands.

“What happened to him?” Jensen couldn’t hold back, he wanted to pull Jared to him, to take his hand. “Is he going to be okay?”

“We found him at the edge of the stables; think he might have let all the horses out. He saved their lives.” The medic gave Jensen a tight smile. “He has been stabbed – possibly attacked by whoever set this fire.”

“Jared.” They allowed him to push closer, to take his limp hand, to squeeze tight and hard. “Jared . . . .”

“We have to take him in,” the medic said, gentle now. “Do you want to ride with him?”

“Yeah.” Jensen was still clinging to Jared’s hand, desperate. “Please.”

He sat in the back of the cramped vehicle and watched Jared’s face, pale, smeared with soot and grime, eyebrows singed, and hair blackened at the edges. He leaned down, voice soft against Jared’s ear, knowing that this is something he had to do, something he had to say.

“Stay with me, Jared,” he breathed. “Stay with me, Jared please. You’ve asked me often enough, now I’m begging you. I’m begging you. Stay with me, Jared. I need you and I love you. Stay with me.”

***

On Monday, the report came that the fire had destroyed the stable block, the bunkhouse, a couple of the out houses and a patch of the land.

On Tuesday, the estimated damage to the property and land was at just over a million dollars. Thanks to Jared, all the livestock had been saved.

On Wednesday, Jensen withdrew his offer to sell, in a formal letter.

Jensen didn’t really care about any of it; he spent his days and most of his nights camped out next to Jared’s hospital bed waiting for him to open his eyes; praying for him to open his eyes.

The doctors seemed happy enough; the stab wound was superficial, it hadn’t hit any major organs or arteries and they had managed to stem the bleeding and stitch up the wound. Their main concern was smoke inhalation and the fact that he had been unconscious for so long. There was talk of possible brain damage and long-term care, all of which made Jensen feel sick and he spent hours by Jared’s bed, talking to him and hoping, praying for a miracle.

“You saved the horses.” Jensen ran his hand down Jared’s arm, gentle fingers across rough skin. “And Midnight. Jared, I rode Midnight. You were right, and my great-grandfather was right. He was made for me to ride, Jared. He trusted me and he let me ride him. Me, Jared.

I think I have learned my lesson, Jared. At last, huh? An Ackles man who isn’t too stubborn to admit how he feels, or to admit what he wants. I was chasing things, chasing rainbows I guess, thinking that I would find happiness, find my own personal pot of gold and really, it was here all along - with you. I wasn’t gay until you put your hands on me and then – wow – but as my grandmother said to me, you love where you love. 

I’m not selling up anymore; I don’t want to race horses, don’t even want to breed them, well not for profit. I want to live here with you, to have fun together you know, swim in the creek, maybe get a load of other animals, dogs, cats, pigs - you name them, we’ll get them. I-I have enough money for us to live happily for a life time, hell a dozen fucking life times but you have to open your eyes, Jared. You have to come back to me.

I know about your step-dad and I don’t care. All I care about is that we are together. The cops have run down Chris and they are throwing the book at him. You are not the bad guy here, Jared – in fact you are the best guy I have ever met. You taught me a lesson, baby. You taught me a lesson the same way that Adam taught my great-grandfather. Trouble was he wasn’t listening, Jared. He didn’t listen in that same stubborn way. He lost his home and his family, made my grandfather into a bitter old man and he never really knew he had a grandson and even a great-grandson.

If you don’t come back to me Jared I am going to become one of those bitter old Ackles men. I’ll live here alone and rot, I’ll send everyone away, I’ll sell the horses, I’ll . . . .”

“Don’t!” The voice was weak, rough and unexpected. Jensen almost fell off his chair when he looked down to see Jared staring up at him, slanting eyes confused, mouth slightly turned up, dimples showing. “Don’t do that.”

“Thank fuck!” Jensen wanted to hold, to kiss, to do something but they hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms and the ball was in Jared’s court. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“The horses . . . ,” Jared’s voice was so low Jensen had to bend closer to hear. “I really got them all out?”

“Yeah – you crazy brave, fool. The medics could almost follow the trail of your blood.”

“He told me he was going to let me take the blame,” Jared sounded out of it and Jensen shushed him, gently rubbing his hand up and down Jared’s arm, touching him at last.

“No one blames you.” Jensen swallowed hard. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Jared.”

“I killed my stepfather.” There it was, out in the open between them, no more secrets.

“I don’t care and neither does Jeff.”

“Are you really staying?” Jared’s mouth trembled, his teeth biting hard into his lower lip. “Jensen? Are you really staying?”

“Only if you do.” He bent forward and pressed his lips against Jared’s, hard and quick, in case the younger man didn’t want him anymore.

“You’re not going to sell up to that fat oaf, then?” Jared’s mouth was shaking with the effort of trying to smile, eyes slanting above soft dimples.

Jensen laughed; there was no need to tell Jared about the withdrawn offer, he would have refused it anyway. He didn’t want to sell anymore, didn’t want to leave. He was staying. He would always stay.

“No.” He felt big hand reach around and hold him tight around the scruff of his neck, tender fingers pressing into his skin. “I’m not.”

“I-I was leaving.” Jared coughed a little, eyes heavy, his hand still clutching Jensen’s neck, fingers tangling in the hair there. “That day - I was leaving.”

“Jared.”

Tears began to leak from those exotic eyes, sad and full.

“I didn’t have anywhere to go but I couldn’t wait, couldn’t be there, at the ranch, not without you.”

“I love you.” Jensen moved into his grip and pressed kisses on his lips, his cheeks, his nose, and his hair. “Okay, I’m the asshole here – not you and I love you.”

“Can we . . . ?” Jared laid back, smile wide and eyes drooping.

“Yeah.” The warmth Jensen felt was like nothing he had ever felt before and he felt his own smile curve his mouth, his face almost aching with it. “We can.”

****

Jared moved stiffly; he got into his clothes and sat on the edge of the bed waiting, unable to believe that Jensen was going to pick him up and take him home.

He was no longer the hired help; Jensen had asked him quite categorically to be his partner rather than his employee and, after a lot of thought, he had agreed.  
He couldn’t quite accept his luck. God, up until recently he thought he was possibly the most unluckiest person in the whole world and then he had met Jensen.

“Hey.” Jensen appeared at the doorway, grin on his face wide and happy. Jared could see how different Jensen was, how he seemed to have let the weight of a lifetime lift from his shoulders. “You ready to go?”

“More than ready.” He wet his lips and got to his feet. He wanted to take Jensen in his arms but he was afraid, unsure and it must have shown on his face because Jensen shook his head and grinned wider, just opening his arms and holding Jared closer and closer, burying his face into Jared’s neck and kissing his face and hair.

“You are gonna’ have to learn that equals means just that,” he said as they broke apart and Jared felt his face flame.

“I – this . . . .”

“Look, I wouldn’t even have a ranch or any horses left, if not for you, you idiot. You saved them and you saved me.” He rubbed Jared’s arm with his hand as if he were gentling a wild animal, shushing him the way Jared shushed and calmed Midnight.

“Jensen are you sure?” He couldn’t bear it, after all of this, if Jensen changed his mind, left and sold up after all. “I don’t think I can do this if you - .”

Jensen silenced him with another, more passionate, kiss and he leaned into it, forgetting they were in a hospital, forgetting the pain in his side and the ache in his lungs. His cock twitched in his thin cotton pants and he flushed again, realizing that his ardor hadn’t dimmed and he wanted it. He wanted everything.

“Come on.” Jensen was breathless when they broke apart, hands still on Jared’s shoulders. “Let’s go home.”

****

**Epilogue**

As he led Jared up the trail to the ranch, he could still feel the younger man’s unease. He opened the door and let them inside wanting only to settle, to get his head around things. Jared sat on the sofa and Jensen could see that his face was pale but his cheeks were flame red. He was still stiff from his injuries but he was whole and here, and Jensen couldn’t even begin to categorize how that made him feel.

His grandmother was in the study and she smiled gently at Jared; settling beside him and pouring him a large cup of mint tea. His great-grandfather’s journal was on the coffee table in front of her and he wondered if she had been reading it. He knew that, unlike Ross before him, he had been so lucky. The love of his life had survived, Jared was here with him and he had a second chance, a second chance that none of the other Ackles had been able to take.

His great-grandfather had lost his love and his family; some of the blame lay with the war but a lot of it was the fault of the inbuilt stubbornness of the Ackles men. Despite the fact that Ross Ackles had tried to make it up to his family at the end it had been too little too late and his own grandfather had proved he could be just as obstinate by refusing to see his dying father, determined to stay on the rundown farm until the bitter end. Jensen wondered what his own father would have been like, wondered if this stubbornness and wanderlust had just skipped a generation and landed at his door. He had never really been happy, never wanted to be a farmer, had thought that money and a career would bring him the contentment he craved. Now he knew he was wrong, happiness, contentment, call it what you will - it was all, relative. He now knew and understood that happiness was not a fast horse, a great finance deal, or the world at your feet. No, happiness was something that just was, it wasn’t given to you on a plate, it was earned. Earned in every single sense of the word and he had earned it by finding Jared.

He sat opposite his grandmother and the young man who had changed his life and his heart just swelled. He had had no idea when he returned home for his grandfather’s funeral that this is where he would end up, or how his life would have turned out. He realized that he loved the land and that he wanted to be a farmer. He discovered he wanted to buy pigs, sheep, and cattle, that he wanted dogs and mangy cats, that he wanted his grandmother to stay with him, that he wanted a home, a family, a quiet life.

“Jensen?” His grandmother was speaking to him and he shook himself out of it. “Are you alright, dear?”

“Yeah, I’m more than alright.” He grinned at her, accepting the offered tea. “I want you to stay here,” he blurted out and his grandmother smiled her own happiness obvious. “We can sell the other farm and move the livestock out to this location.”

“You don’t want to race horses?” His grandmother’s voice was gentle.

“No, I want to breed horses and I want to breed other animals too.” He shrugged. “I guess I am a farmer, after all.”

His grandmother smiled and patted Jared’s arm. “And you young man, do you want this?”

“More than anything, Ma’am.” He grinned, dimples and all. “I – it will be great to have a family again.”

Jensen felt a flush of warmth and he rose to his feet.

“If you are staying here we ought to get you settled in,” he said. “You must be tired and there is so much to do, so I need you fit and well.”

Jared blushed, “I was thinking - maybe I should . . . .”

“Shit, Jared.” Jensen shot an apologetic glance towards his grandmother. “You can’t even be thinking about staying in the bunk house. One there is no bunkhouse, and two we are partners now, which means you stay here.” He gave his grandmother another pleading glance. “With me.”

Jared stared at him for a long while and then nodded. He was still pink but his eyes were bright and Jensen wanted to take him, lay him down and do things to him that weren’t fit for his grandmother’s ears or eyes. He reached down and picked up Jared’s bag.

“Come on,” he said, gently. “I have just the room for you.” He waited until they were out of his grandmother’s earshot and then he grinned, wickedly. “Yeah, I have just the room for you – mine!”

****

The sun was setting and the red fire cast shadows across the plain blue coverlet. Jared lay beneath the fire, limbs turned pink and rosy in the dying embers of light, skin beautiful and flawless, the flex of muscle beneath. 

Jensen took his time to catalog everything about Jared, from his soft chestnut hair to his long, taut legs. Slanting eyes, cat-like and exotic, stared at him from under messy bangs and dimples deepened in Jared’s cheeks as he smiled up at Jensen, something akin to contentment in his expression.

“You are beautiful.” Jensen knelt between Jared’s spread thighs and let his hand play over his already erect cock. “Everything about you is beautiful.”

“Jensen,” Jared’s voice faltered on a groan as Jensen licked a stripe down Jared’s cock and swallowed it down. He had never given a blowjob before but he knew what he liked and, by the sounds Jared was making, Jared liked it too. Soon he felt Jared move beneath him, felt his muscles tense, saw his eyes flutter closed. Jensen took mercy on Jared and gently pulled off him before he reached inside the bedside drawer for a condom. Jared was writhing and begging and Jensen couldn’t wait to be inside of him.

“I want to ride you.” Jared rolled onto his knees, cock hard, red and leaking. He used his strength to push Jensen down onto his back, rolling the condom onto his erection and lowering himself down slowly, the warmth and tightness spreading through Jensen as Jared went lower and lower.

Jared closed his eyes, his breath coming in hard, fast pants.

“It is like what riding Midnight, must be like,” he gasped, his hands on Jensen’s chest, thighs taut and straining. “It is so wild and unrestrained, it is wonderful, wonderful Jensen and I want it - always.”

Jensen gave a groan as Jared tightened around him one last time and came hard all over his chest and thighs. Jensen arched and filled the condom, the feel of Jared above him, Jared’s hands on his chest, Jared all around him almost too much for him to endure.

Afterwards they lay tangled in each others arms. Together, partners, equals in all ways and it was all Jensen had ever wanted.

“Guess the Ackles are here to stay,” he whispered as Jared snuggled down into his arms. “No leaving, not anymore.”

“I love you,” Jared’s voice was gentle and insistent and, for the first time, Jensen felt he was ready to say it back.

“I love you too,” he murmured softly. “I love you too.”

And it was enough.

****

**One Year Later**

The land seemed to sweep on for miles; acres of green as far as the eye could see. Horses, chestnut, black, piebald, grazed in the fields, trotted lazily across to where the grass met the river and drank leisurely. Cattle, Texan steers, filled the fields beyond the river and sheep lazed in the sunshine.

Jensen dug his heels into the horse’s flank and moved leisurely on; a battered felt hat protected his head from the burning sunshine and the boots that he wore were old and scuffed. He wheeled back up the path and towards the newly built stable block guiding the horse carefully so that he didn’t stumble over the chickens that pecked their way along the pebbled driveway.

There were rabbits in runs and a few guinea pigs. Dogs barked in the distance and the large mastiff with a grizzled muzzle slouched over to him for fuss and treats. Jensen patted the horse and dismounted reaching into his pocket for the strips of jerky that he kept in there.

“Hey.” Jared came out of the stable block leading one of the newer horses. This one was a chestnut filly purchased at a county fair a few months ago. Jensen had become acquainted with county fairs and enjoyed them, not just for the buying and selling of livestock but also for the silly fun things like the fair, the food and the shows. “She’s coming along nicely.” Jared ran a big hand down the filly’s flanks. “She’ll fit in here.”

Jensen grinned; he strode over to Jared and pulled the younger man into his arms. Jared smelled of sweat, straw and horses and his hair was stuck to his forehead from the intense heat of the day. Jensen knew that they would ride down to the creek later to cool their bodies, knew they would lie on the bank and dry out in the sun. It was wonderful and still strangely weird to be able to do just what he wanted. He had so much money but it wasn’t an issue anymore, if he lost it all tomorrow he would still have Jared and that would make him the richest man in Texas as far as he was concerned.

He glanced over to the bunkhouse; they needed it more than ever now and had rebuilt it even bigger. As well as the men who worked on the ranch, they also fostered kids and it was something that Jensen would have never imagined himself doing, something that was so far out of his comfort zone it had made his grandmother laugh in a very unladylike way.

It started because there was never going to be any more Ackles men to take over the ranch. No more stubborn bastards to resist settling down. Jensen was more than happy with Jared and all on the ranch accepted their relationship. Jensen had often thought about marriage and children but it was impossible now and, although he knew he should care, he didn’t, he just wanted them both to be happy and contented.

However, he still had a working ranch, fantastic livestock and lots of money. He also had a grandmother who was desperate for a family again and a lover who was soft and gentle and who wanted to show youngsters how wonderful working on the land could be, wanted them to share the horses, wanted them to know what it was like to have a pet.

Jensen acquiesced; at first, they thought they might not be able to foster due to Jared’s history. The younger man had been mortified and guilty as hell and it had taken Jensen a long time to assure Jared that he knew everything, that he didn’t blame Jared and that it didn’t make him love him any less.

As it turned out though they had worried in vain because Jared’s ‘crime’ was seen as spent and as he had paid his dues, so to speak, the powers that be were prepared to look beyond what had happened and just concentrate on what was happening now.

They got their first foster child, a boy called Colin, in May of that year. He was a city kid, skinny and silent with no real knowledge of wide-open spaces. Jensen felt his heart go out to the kid; Jared’s family didn’t want to know him anymore and Jensen barely had a family so it was easy to sympathize and to empathize with kids like Colin, kids who had never really had anything.

Colin blossomed; he went from pale and silent to healthy and loud. He learned to ride, took the dogs for walks, helped with the baby rabbits and read aloud to Jensen’s grandmother. Several other boys and a couple of tomboy girls joined Colin. They all seemed to bloom and Jensen suspected it was mostly down to Jared, the guy having endless patience, teaching them to ride and how to shoe a horse.

As well as the county fairs, Jensen sometimes took Midnight and raced him in various races around the state. They weren’t professional and often he just won a fruit basket or a hunk of cheese but he loved the way it made him feel. Loved that he, Jensen Ackles, was riding, the feel of the wind on his face, the horse beneath him could hardly be equaled. He also knew that his great-grandfather would be proud. Proud, not only because he was racing, but because he had come back to the Midnight ranch and that, finally, an Ackles had decided to stay in one place, the families wanderlust tamed by a black stallion and his handsome groom.

His great-grandfather’s journal placed, carefully, on a bookshelf in the library. Jensen would refer to it often when he needed help and advice on horses but he never read the personal pages again not wanting to dwell on his great-grandfather’s misery hoping that, wherever he was, the old man was happy now.

Midnight Ranch again became the stuff of legends but this time it wasn’t because of a magnificent horse or endless riches. This time it was because pale faced city children passed through its gates and emerged happy, healthy and ready for the world. This time it was because of the fine cattle the owners bred, the domestic pets they sold at county shows, the fact that they employed local people to work on their ranch and the fact that the owners and their employees were always so damn happy.

Jensen sat astride Midnight, Jared behind him.

They looked down into the valley, the fields, the animals, the kids playing in the creek and they smiled at each other in unison.

This was family. 

This was happiness. 

This was home.

End


End file.
